Little soul lost
by Teanni
Summary: Spike and Lisa Gray are slowly getting closer. At first it’s only because he needs help becoming corporeal again…As their relationship evolves Spike learns about Lisa's not so glorious and rather dark past. COMPLETE
1. A Job interview Angel style

Little soul lost 

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the WB's television series 'Angel'. All those pretty shiny characters - such as Spike, Angel, Wesley, Fred and Lorne - belong to Mutant Enemy and Joss Whedon. The only thing that belongs to me is Lisa and the part of the story line which isn't based on season 5. This story was purely written out of fan appreciation and because I enjoyed doing it. So please don't sue.

Contains spoilers up to 'Destiny'. So all of you, who haven't seen the episodes yet, be warned grin

Chapter 1:

Lisa wasn't good at those kind of things. She hated job interviews. It was all about pretending to be a person you are not. Nobody is always happy or brilliant all the time. And having to pretend to be perfect is something annoying - perhaps even unhealthy - especially when you can feel your own doubts nagging at you at the back of your head.

Lisa uncomfortably tugged at the hem of her dark blue skirt. She had gone through her entire closet to find something decent to wear for this occasion. Finally, after a rather long and fruitless endeavour, she had found the business dress, her mother had once given to her as her present, hoping against hope that she could be redeemed to a less extravagant wardrobe. She nervously started playing with a strain of her hair, while her gaze wandered here and there.

The young woman stared absent-mindedly through the spotless glass front of the waiting room. Gosh, this place was huge! It had the sort of forceful cheerfulness to it, most office buildings have nowadays. It was equipped with huge windows, bright colours and absolutely no personality whatsoever. People were scurrying around busily like bees in a beehive. Maybe if she was lucky she would be one of them sooner or later. Lisa needed the money badly.

She picked up a magazine. The thin paper slightly trembled in her hand when she turned the pages. Toothy grins and the latest fall fashion passed her by unnoticed, while her mind was occupied with other thoughts. She couldn't concentrate properly, because she was that nervous. She had even skipped breakfast this morning. Lisa threw the magazine back on the table and started playing with the rings on her fingers. The ditzy blonde secretary, who had already welcomed her at the reception and had let her here beforehand, popped her head into the waiting room.

"The boss is ready for you," she announced with a cheerful grin, that Lisa somehow found utterly unnerving. "Please, follow me."

"Uhm, yes, thank you."

She was shown into a spacious office room with huge windows. For a moment her eyes curiously scanned her surroundings. Though the office was light flooded, it seemed to have a gloomy touch . Probably it was due to all those antiques hanging from the walls: African masks, spears, swords...Strange. She certainly hadn't imagined a lawyer's office like that.

She was called back into the present by the voice of the secretary . "Good luck," she sang, in what seemed to the young woman unmasked sadism. The door closed behind her and Lisa tried to put on an air of confidence as she approached the desk at the far end of the room. The huge leather chair turned and revealed a handsome young man in his mid twenties. He rose and shook her hand. Ouch, that was certainly a firm handshake. 'Try to keep grinning', she repeated to herself and almost would have exhaled in relieve when he let go of her hand.

"Please, take a seat, Miss Gray." He indicated the chair in front of his desk. She followed his invitation and looked at him expectantly.

"Well...As to your appliance as a secretary...", he looked at the papers in front of him with a frown on his face.

"I know that I'm not the best typist, but I'm a good worker. I will give a hundred percent if you just give me a chance so..."

"We didn't invite you here because we wanted your services as a secretary."

"You didn't ?", she asked incredulously. "What am I here for then?"

"Actually, there is another vacancy...which...uhm..." he seemed to search for a the right word for a few seconds, "turned up a few days ago, which would suit you much better", he leaned back in his chair and scrutinized her closely.

Was he trying to come onto her? Her senses were probably playing tricks on her. She tried to keep up the illusion of a cheerful enthusiastic person, that is supposed to help you get a job, but somehow it was getting more difficult with every second his stare bore into her. Though Wolfram & Hart had a very good reputation in the business world, this job interview was turning out a little bit awkward. Just in case he got ideas she had her pepper spray right in her purse.

"What kind of vacancy?" she briefly paused, contemplating whether or not she should address his weird behaviour and finally decided for it. "And may I inform you, sir, that I will leave immediately, if you are implying anything other than offering me a job," she squinted her eyes together and looked at him challengingly.

"What do you mean?" he looked at her confusedly.

Did she really have to spell it out for him? Obviously, yes."I mean, that I'm not one of those girls who sleeps around in the office."

"Oh, no, no, no," her vis-à-vis laughed embarrassedly and knocked over an empty mug with a clumsy movement. "That was not at all what I meant! We need a new psychic," he calmly explained while he bussied himself with cleaning off an imaginary stain from his shiny desktop. Then he put up the mug again, only this time out of his moving range.

"You need a what?" she shot to her feet in surprise. "Are you joking? I thought this was a law firm. A highly respectable one even", her voice rose a pitch while the questions bubbled out of her without her being able to hinder them from doing so.

"I'm rarely in the mood for jokes", a statement which his serious voice underlined with determination .

"Okay", Lisa stretched out every vowel of this small word. "How come you were thinking of me? How do I fit into this picture?" she crossed her arms over her chest waiting for him to come up with a good answer that would convince her to stay.

"We heard of your abilities. Also the questions you answered in your application helped a lot."

She had to admit she had already been slightly suspicious when she had read things like 'Do you believe in the existence of supernatural phenomena?' or 'How do you work under stress?', not to mention 'Do you believe in the afterlife? Right 100 words or more'. Why had she been so stupid? She had been blinded by the prospect of a regular income that would at least be able to pay some of her debts. She should have known. That was a joke right? She wasn't in the mood for jokes. She hadn't skipped her afternoon classes at university for some childish mind games. "Let's not waste both our time. What is going on here? Who told you about me?"

Seconds seemed to stretch on forever as she waited in vain for an answer. Lisa ran her hand through her long black hair exasperatedly. She stared at her vis-à-vis as if the answers to her question would be revealed just by looking at him. Already at a young age she had been able to see things other people simply ignore, because their senses were numbed by everyday life. An ocean of information floods the brain on a daily basis and some of it is too subtle to be properly registered. Lisa had always paid attention to the small details. Now, for example, she noticed, that the man's chest wasn't rising or falling. He didn't breath! But he wasn't a ghost, she would have been able to sense that.

"You are not human," she stated and oddly her voice sounded slightly firmer than just a few seconds before. The supernatural was a world she was well acquainted with and strangely enough she felt a little bit more secure of herself now. Well, at least as much as you could feel, faced with a potential threat to your life.

"Yes, you're right. I'm not human" he answered hesitantly. He didn't move, didn't do anything to make her feel threatened. He just sat there waiting for her reaction. She looked at the windows through which the midday sun was streaming merrily. A vampire who didn't burn in direct sunlight? That was certainly something new.

He had noticed her gaze. "I'm guessing you are just asking yourself why I'm not burning like a torch right now.."

"That and why you are running the L.A. branch of Wolfram & Hart." He smiled. Obviously he had some sense of humour. "I knew there was some kind of close relationship between lawyers and vampires," she muttered under her breath, trying to win some time to work out a plan to escape from this office. Lisa carefully thought about her options and quickly figured out that her chances were about that of a snowball in hell. He was a vampire which meant he was strong, quick and deadly and that she had no possibility of making it out of this room without him allowing her to.

"Look, I imagine that comes to you as some kind of a shock. But, please, stay calm. I don't want to hurt you."

"Of course, you are just making me a job offer", she shot back sarcastically.

"Yes."

"Yes?" Lisa had the sudden urge to sit down. She slumped down in the chair behind her and stared for a few seconds at the shiny tips of her shoes. She could remembered the last time she had worn shoes this clean. Perhaps at her graduation, maybe. Her thoughts slowly worked themselves from the cleanliness of her footwear towards the current situation. A vampire was making her a job offer. It needed a few moments before the information sagged in. She thought about how odd this situation was, about the bills that were strewn all over her apartment like a paper explosion and waiting to be paid with money she didn't have. Somehow the reality of her financial problems put the whole situation in a whole new perspective.

"I probably will regret this...", Lisa announced wearily. She just hoped she wasn't making the proverbial deal with the devil. There would always be time for remorse later.

"Is there a test...or something?" she looked at him questioningly.

"Actually, yes, there are a few," he awkwardly pressed a button on his telephone as if he wasn't sure it would fulfil the desired task. "Harmony, would you please send in, Lorne?"

"Of course, bossy," came the immediate response from the other line.

"I told you to stop calling me that," he hissed between clenched teeth.

"Okay, b...uuuhm...Angel." Lisa tried hard to suppress a grin, listening to the brief interchange.

They didn't have to wait long for this guy called Lorne to arrive. "Angelcakes, how have you been?" asked a melodious male voice from behind her.

She turned around in her chair to greet the newcomer and almost would have done a doubletake. Her brain lately registered strange images - more strange than usually at least - for example, right now it was telling her that a demon with freckled green skin, red eyes and horns and a gigantic smile on his face was walking up to her. Lisa became aware that she was staring and quickly caught herself. Nevertheless she wasn't able to get out a single word.

"Who is this charming young thing? That hair and that skin... she almost looks like Snow-white," Lorne shook her hand enthusiastically.

"Our new medium."

"So I'm here to hear her sing, I guess?" Angel nodded in response.

"Wait a minute...singing? What does that have to do with...", Lisa protested after she had finally found her voice again.

"Lorne is an empathic demon. He can read other peoples' auras when they sing," she was informed briefly.

"Oh.", Lisa was dumbfounded by this whole situation though usually she was quite sharp witted.

Things had gotten completely out of hand. They just passed her by at the speed of lightning, while she was reduced to being nothing but an idle bystander. Lisa was completely overwhelmed like somebody who has been inside of an empty cave for all his life and was now shoved into the bright and noisy environment of one of those annoying theme parks. Your senses were bound to go on overload. True, she dealt with the supernatural on a daily basis, but this was absolutely new territory to her.

"I had a demon karaoke bar in the good old days. I guess old habits die hard," Lorne said good-humouredly, chatting away merrily as if she was on old acquaintance of him. "There is nothing like a good song to cheer you up."

"Do I have to?" she rolled her eyes like an annoyed child.

"Yes."

Obviously they absolutely wanted her to sing. How ridiculous! "Can't we just use a lie detector or something?"

"No", by that point she was already too worked up over the question whether or not she was to sing, to care about how bizarre the whole situation really was.

"Okay," she sighed, "What do I pick?"

"Anything."

"Alright, just give me a moment to think about it," Lisa said while she inwardly cursed the day the crazy idea of considering working for this law firm got into her head. Silence. Both men...well, the vampire and the demon...anyways, they were both looking at her expectantly.

She nervously cleared her throat. Lisa liked singing, but not in front of other people. Her frequent performances were only meant for herself in the perfect acoustic of her shower. She closed her eyes - this way she wouldn't have to see her audience - and started singing. Her voice was soft and beautiful, "T_he very thought of you and I forget to do. The little ordinary things that everyone's ought to do. I'm living in a kind of day dream, I'm happy as a king and foolish though it may seem to me that's everything..._", she stopped and looked at them shyly.

Lorne was grinning from ear to ear, while Angel was wearing a contemplative frown on his face - she reckoned it was something he did very often..

"Clearly somebody who picks that kind of song can't be evil," the demon announced, "I think she will be perfectly right for the job", he informed Angel.

"So, I can send her down to Fred?"

"I don't see a reason why you shouldn't."


	2. The human labrat

She entered the elevator and pressed the button for the floor where the science department was situated. As soon as the metal doors closed behind her she leaned against the wall and exhaled in relief. Somehow this interview had been utterly stressful. Not only had somebody taken a look into her soul - her aura - , she had for the first time in her life seen proof that she wasn't just another nut who believed in the existence of the supernatural. A vampire and a demon...and she was going to work for them. Had she gone insane? She banged her head against the cool metal surface of the elevator repeatedly. She would probably pay her stupidity with her life. But on the other hand what chances did she have finding another job with equally high pay? Lisa sighed. Now she was to go to the science department to meet someone called Fred. She wondered what she was supposed to do there. 

Suddenly she felt a familiar tingle in the pit of her stomach. Goosebumps crept over her skin. She was sensing the presence of a ghost very near by. The light in the elevator briefly flickered. So this one was bit of a drama queen. Her eyes nervously wandered here and there.

"Buh." A totally unspectacular entrance. Lisa had seen better that involved floating tables and exploding TV sets. She turned around and came face to face with a young man with peroxide blond, almost white hair, a long black leather duster and a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

"A simple 'hello' would have been sufficient, but if you absolutely insist on making an entrance - I would have also appreciated something slightly more inventive," Lisa commented dryly.

"Well, this works with most people," he cocked his head and she could have sworn she briefly saw disappointment flicker in his eyes. "Besides I don't really have much to do these days besides scaring lawyers and annoying Mr. Broody-pants. Who are you by the way?"

"Lisa."

"You're new one, right? Are you another one of those lawyers?" he circled her watching her curiously from head to toe.

"Actually, no. I'm the new...", she briefly hesitated before she continued. You don't usually run around to tell people you are doing some kind of odd job. "...the new psychic, I guess."

"Weeell, let's hope you have better luck than your predecessor," he rubbed his hands in glee.

"What does that mean?"

"Well, she was chocked to death by a dark soul," he answered nonchalantly, inspecting his nails carefully.

"Oh, ce la vie. It appears she wasn't that good at her job or else this wouldn't have happened to her. Beginner's mistake," she raised a delicate eyebrow. " And... by the way, who you are? "

"I thought you were the psychic in here. Aren't you able to tell me?"

Lisa sighed. "If you insist...Just remember that it was you who asked for it."

She closed her eyes and concentrated. Her breath slowed down and reached a calm and steady rhythm. In front of her she could feel his energy burn brightly like a torch in the night. It seemed so easy. Never in her life had she sensed a spiritual energy this intense. It felt like he desperately tried to hold on to this plane of existence. But why? She reached out with her mental powers. Lisa moved hesitantly and carefully as she got closer and closer. It was a very delicate matter. Though he had asked her to do this, she didn't want to force herself on him, so she stayed at the surface. Pictures briefly flashed before her eyes containing information about where he had been and what he had done in the last few hours. Like short clips cut out of different films they weren't making any sense - out of context and incomprehensible to any outsider. Some of them even scared her to death. He had been in a dark place. She shivered and retreated quickly. When Lisa opened her eyes again she saw him looking at her strangely. There was an expression of utter surprise on his face almost mirroring her own.

"I'm sorry, William," her voice was soft and had lost the initial arrogance with which their conversation had started. She recognized that dark place she had seen in her vision. It was hell. A gaping hole that ate the souls of sinners. Lisa had often seen it happening. William was slowly loosing grip on this reality. He was slipping into hell. Well, that wasn't her problem right? She quickly dismissed those disturbing thoughts.

"Anyways, it's your own fault you could have simply told me your name," she quickly recovered herself.

"Never mind," there was something different about him. For a brief moment a hint of vulnerability shone through his rough character.

A soft hum announced that the elevator had reached its destination. The doors slide open and revealed a huge lab. Scientists with white cloaks were busily scurrying around, chemical experiments where bubbling in little glasses, while highly complex simulations were running on computer monitors. Lisa stepped slowly out of the elevator marvelling at the wonders of this lab like a child. A young woman approached her with a friendly smile on her face. She seemed to be about her age.

"Hi, I'm Fred," she circumstantially took off her glasses and shook her hand.

"The science queen," commented the ghost.

"Lisa Gray, pleasure to meet you."

"And she's the new psychic," Spike called over her shoulder, obviously feeling the undeniable urge to interfere with their conversation as much as possibility.

"Now that we all know who we are," Fred briefly gave Spike a disapproving glance which clearly said 'shut up', "Angel told me you would drop by today. We have to run a few tests."

"Okay," Lisa answered coolly, trying to appear absolutely unimpressed.

"Yeah, go ahead and stick a needle into her. I'll lean back and enjoy the show," Spike proposed a tad bit too enthusiastically.

"No, much too old- fashioned," Fred smiled proudly.

"Bugger! I guess, no fun and games for Casper, then," came the muttered curse from behind.

"Does he have to be there the whole time?" Lisa asked with a hint of annoyance in her voice.

"No, but since you are an expert on the spiritual world I decided to make you my 'new best friend'," Spike quipped before Fred could reply anything.

"And why is that?" Lisa asked already dreading the answer.

"'Cause you could help me."

"Alright, Miss Gray...uhm do you mind if I call you Lisa?" Fred asked friendly, trying to reclaim the other woman's attention.

"Not at all.", Lisa answered, immediately feeling some kind of sympathy towards the other woman. "Would you please follow me? We have to run some neuronal scans."

She was let into a little room and told to sit down in a comfortable looking leather chair. Lisa uncomfortably scooted her and there in her seat while about ten electrodes were carefully put on her forehead, her temples and on the back of her neck. She flinched every time they were applied on her skin because they were cool and slightly prickling. By now she could image what a lab rat went through on a daily basis.

"We are trying to measure your brain activity to find out how far your mystical abilities are evolved," Fred told her distractedly over the peeping of the computer programme, while she hacked some data into the keyboard.

Spike had made himself comfortable on the edge of Fred's desk and was grinning at the Lisa with an expression of utter malicious joy. With every second that passed Lisa felt more and more uncomfortable. The light from the monitor reflected as two silvery blue squares in Fred's glasses while her eyes interestedly read the data supplied by the neuronal scans.

"Interesting," the young scientist muttered and reached for her scanner. Lisa stiffened in her chair while the electrical device hovered only inches from her face. After a while Fred finally decided she had collected enough data. ""We are done."

Lisa sighed in relief. She had a strong aversion against everything that remotely reminded her of a visit to the doctors. It was as if every time you were evaluated and either approved of or marked as a complete failure. And the worst part of it was that it was absolutely out of your hands. You could do anything to influence the other person's final judgement about you.

After a while Fred had finished her examination. At least now those pesky electrodes came off. "Lisa, let me be the first to congratulate you. You've got the job. Welcome to Wolfram & Hart," Fred informed her with a friendly smile.


	3. Bad taste

Lisa sat behind her desk going through a couple of files that had been assigned to her by the head of her department, some Englishman whose name she had already forgotten again – names and numbers were not her forte. A widow wanted to contact her late husband in order to find out the secret combination to the vault in which he had hidden away his entire fortune, a dark soul needed to be vanquished from a hotel owned by one of Wolfram & Hart's clients, a spirit had to be conjured to give evidence of a recent murder. It was her second day at work, actually that was not entirely correct - she was always working the night shift, because this way she could also go to her classes - and she was already wading knee deep in cases. The young woman sighed and massaged her temples. Lisa needed a break. The letters were already starting to swim before her eyes. She walked over to the window and looked at the lights of the Los Angeles skyline.

Her mirror image reflected in the glass. She was wearing leather pants, boots with high heels and a black see-through shirt with black corset underneath. Her long hair was tied back to a sleek ponytail; her features were beautiful but somehow lifeless, like those of a marble statue. She was slim and tall with a porcelain white complexion. At school she had been always ridiculed by her classmates because of it. They had called her 'ghost girl'. If only they knew how close they had come to the truth. When she walked the city streets she always saw them - the spirits. She consciously chose to ignore them, trying to lead a normal life. Once you started helping you were bound to end up in a vicious circle. Soon enough the rumour would spread and you would be damned to sacrifice your own happiness for others – the dead. And let's face it they were neither rather thankful - speaking in terms of rewarding you with money – nor was their company a benefit to your mental health. So Lisa blocked her feelings out most of the time. She had often been called cold-hearted, but in reality that was not the point at all. She just wanted to protect herself. She had burned herself once too often. Keep it light, do not get too involved. From that point of view this law firm was the ideal place for her. It was a sanctuary where there were no ghosts lurking behind every corner, except, of course, for one – that pesky guy called William. She turned her back to the city lights and walked back to her writing table.

"Nice view." She stopped walking, frozen on tracks by the voice behind her. Male, low, seductive and distinctly British. Lisa wrinkled her nose and slowly turned around.

"What do you want?" she asked coldly, "I have work to do."

"Just dropped by for a little chat among friend", he sauntered up to her with a confident smirk on his face.

"We. are. not. friends", she punctuated every single word. "We just happened to run into each other in the elevator the other day." She grabbed her bag and coat, walking to the door.

"Funny, I've been told so before by someone else yet we ended up being friends in the end."

"Touching."

"Where are you going?"

" To my 9:30."

"And that would be?"

"Clean up job."

"Mind if I tag along?" he asked, already following her as she stormed through the office building towards the garage with huge energetic strides.

"Yes," she answered shortly, slowly loosing her patience with him.

"Perfect, don't have to do anything else anyways," he said, ignoring her answer completely.

A few minutes later they were sitting in her car headed towards the 'Tropical Island', a hotel at the outskirts of town. Her fingers were drumming on the steering wheel while Spike was filling up the time with talking incessantly. "...and so I took the bloody amulet, because the big poof was too much of a chicken to pull the whole thing of, anyways. Pranced away to L.A. to lean back in his comfy new arm chair and take his shiny new cars for a test drive. Whereas I get fried alive, like bloody chicken wings and what do I get as a reward? Nothing!"

"You poor thing, you," Lisa said with irony dripping from her voice. He gave her a brief sideways glance before he continued.

"You don't get it!" he gesticulated with his hands, "He maimed, tortured and killed. I bloody did the same. He gets a shiny little soul and so do I. He ends up at the top of the world and what about little ol' me? Well, I get to be a ghost who's slowly heading towards the place where all nasty nasties are bound to go sooner or later. Whereas the almighty Angel is embarked on this whole Shanshoo redemption trip where he gets to be a real boy in the end. What about me? Eternal torment! Nice, huh?"

"Well, life, or in your case un-life's a bitch and then you die. Pardon the pun," she shrugged her shoulders, apparently totally untouched by his tale.

She decided that she had had enough of his talk. Lisa reached for a CD and put it into the CD-player. Immediately the car was filled with brachial sound of an angry and extremely loud metal band. She turned up the volume so that it became practically impossible to lead a conversation without shouting. A self-satisfied smirk appeared on her face while the music merrily blasted away through the loud speakers. '_I kill till I die...nauseating screams...a vicious lust for blood_,' the dark voice of the lead singer screamed, loudly reverberating inside of the small car. Lisa looked over at Spike hoping that by now his astral ears were bleeding. Instead he was contently humming along, his finger drumming in time with the beat. She rolled her eyes and focused on the street.

After what seemed to Lisa a sheer endless drive, the car came to a screeching standstill in front of the 'Tropical Island'. They entered the hotel lobby, a huge entrance hall that represented the biggest and most shameless display of bad taste Lisa had come across in her entire life. The neon green carpet combined with the hideous bamboo print wall-paper that was supposed to give you the illusion you just entered the hut of a Hawaiian village elder, inspired in her the almost overwhelming desire to claw out her own eyeballs with her fingernails. To complete this chaos of colours there also were some red armchairs and mahogany tables with some disgusting little wooden statues on it. Had she forgotten to mention there were fake flowers almost everywhere?

"Bugger," Spike muttered behind her and raised his eyebrows while he sceptically eyed the hotel interior. Lisa confidently strode up to the reception desk behind which a middle aged man dressed in shorts and a Hawaiian shirt was waiting for them.

"Welcome, to the 'Tropical Island', Miss. How may I help you? Room for two, I presume?" he asked with a petrified smile on his face.

"No," she answered abruptly. This place made her feel absolutely uncomfortable. "We are here for the clean up job," Lisa added in a lower voice.

"Miss Gray from Wolfram & Hart?"

"Yes, the very same."

"And who's your colleague?" Spike wasn't exactly her colleague, but what was she supposed to say? The annoying spook which haunts our office building and decided to tag along?

"Mr...uhmmmm...William..." she tried hard to think of a name.

"Green," Spike supplied finally able to rip his gaze away from the hypnotizingly ugly carpet. "Alright, please follow me."

They were let through the hotel bar and stepped through a curtain made out of brightly coloured plastic pearls behind which a door with the gold- framed tag 'staff only' was hidden. Fortunately the hotel employee didn't notice that the pearls slipped right through Spike's purely incorporeal form. After they had passed the kitchen, in which a fat sweating cook was busily slaving over a hot stove, the came to stop in front of a rusty iron door.

"My boss, Mr. Morgan, told me to lead you here. I don't know what this is all about, but honestly I really don't want to. Especially when it's got to something do with this place down there," the receptionist told them as he unlocked the door to the hotel cellar.

"Thank you. We will take care of the problem and please make sure nobody disturbs as." Lisa informed her vis-à-vis in a business like tone. The man nodded and left quickly. As a matter of fact he almost ran to get away as fast as possible.

"He seemed to be in an awful hurry," Spike pointed out, leaning laxly against the wall opposite of the cellar door. "Are we going down there now?"

"No, we have to prepare ourselves before we do. This way it would be down right suicidal." She reached into her pocket and produced a small bag. "Come closer," she waved at him with her hand.

Spike raised his eyebrows sceptically, but decided to refrain from protesting. He assumed she knew what she was doing. The young woman spilled the contents of the bag on the floor so that they formed a small circle around them.

"What's that?" he asked curiously, indicating the grainy transparent substance that she had strewn out.

"Salt. Now will shut your mouth, pleas?."

The young woman closed her eyes and opened her arms in a graceful gesture that radiated absolute confidence. Her face was a mask of silent concentration. When she spoke again her voice was different. Ageless, sexless, filled with tranquillity and wisdom.

"Osiris, thy humble servant calls upon thee for protection. Bless us and grant us thy guidance! May our wills be strong and our hands never falter as we restore the eternal balance," the air seemed heavy and voices whispered around them. It was almost as if someone was standing right next to them and they could feel his soft breath tickle their ear. Spike watched around nervously. The circle briefly flashed in a warm golden light. From its borders it slowly crept closer and closer towards Spike and Lisa, until it finally swept over them like a warm summer breeze. Then everything was over as quickly as it had started.

"Thank you, master," the young woman said in a low voice and stepped out of the circle. She seemed completely at ease with what had just happened, as if she had just done something absolutely normal like brushing her hair or turning the car keys in the ignition. Whereas Spike still stood there rooted to the spot. He had felt a very powerful presence. It had watched him like an insect under a magnifying glass. He had been scrutinized very closely and the decision was made that he deserved to continue his miserable existence just a little bit longer.

"Are you coming or are you're just going to stand there and stare?" she asked impatiently.

Lisa turned and stepped through the door which swung open with a loud creaking noise. A raft of cold air seemed to come up the stairs which led down to the cellar and swept over her, leaving Goosebumps on her skin. She reached for the light switch and pushed it down. An erratic bluish flicker which presumably came from some neon tubes could be seen at the bottom of the stairs.

"Inviting," came Spike's sarcastic comment from behind her.

"Still better then the lobby," her warm breath formed little smoke clouds in the cool air.

Lisa started climbing down the stairs. Her steps echoed loudly in the huge vault as it was the only sound besides the electronic humming of the light tubes. Dusty boxes, shelves, tattered decoration elements briefly flashed in the bluish white light and disappeared again.

"This could get messy," she muttered more to herself than Spike who had come to a halt next to her at the bottom of the stairs. The young woman straightened her clothes and took one deep and calming breath.

"Look, we can do this the hard or the easy way. I've already seen everything: bleeding walls, exploding mirror glass, disturbing visions...so you needn't bother to try and scare us. It won't work. Just come out. We won't harm you, I promise," she said in a loud voice.

Nothing, but the dead silence of the basement.

"This will be your only chance," Lisa added after a while.

As an answer the flickering of the light became more unpredictable.

Spike nosily cleared his throat beside her, "...I think can see dead people," he pointed with his finger at a point ten feet away from then.

A brief flash of light revealed a man starring at them with open hostility. Several shot wounds had torn his chest to pieces; his face was pale and disfigured by a mask of suffering and anger.

"Go away," he said. Is voice was like the wind that howled in the dark woods in a stormy autumn night.

"No," Lisa said calmly.

"Go away!" the ghost thundered. He commandingly waved his arm and suddenly a couple of cans hissed through the air and hit the stone wall just a few inches from them, leaving deep notches on the stony surface. Spike shrugged his shoulders dismissively, while Lisa didn't even flinch. The ghost screamed angrily and his form exploded into a swarm of dark particles that spread in the entire room like angry bees.

"Who do you think you are, little girl? So young! So stupid! You think you can threaten me? I will teach you not to mess with things you don't have the slightest idea about!" The stone walls around them seemed to tremble. The neon tube flickered fearfully and with each light flash the ghost materialized somewhere else, coming closer and closer.

"Now would be a good time to do something," Spike suggested.

"Oh, you think so?" Lisa said, while she coolly looked ahead. The ghost stormed at them with a terrifying scream and came to an abrupt halt as he collided with an invisible barrier.

"What have you done, witch?" the man hissed at her.

"Well, firstly I'm not a witch and secondly let's just say that I don't have a very strong death wish."

"Why are you here?" the ghost asked circling them, obviously trying to find a hole in the protective shield that surrounded them.

"Work reasons. Have you ever asked yourself the same question?" The ghost stopped walking.

"No," his face was an expression of utter surprise. How come he had never asked himself that question? Years had passed and everything had faded but the feeling of anger. It had grown and made him strong. Anger was the only thing that was of any importance, nothing else. But there was something inside of him – a trace of the person he once used to be that still longed for something. The only tragedy was he had forgotten what it was.

"You want to be somewhere else. You have taken a short glimpse of that place, but now it is gone and you don't know how to get there anymore. I will lead you there...,"the young woman said.

"But he shot me."

"Does it matter anymore?"

"I want my revenge," the ghost screamed in a sudden outburst. One of the light tubes exploded in a rain of gleaming sparks.

"I can't promise you revenge, but what about justice?"

The man frowned and seemed to contemplate carefully what she just said. "I guess I could settle for justice," he said after a while.

"Then give me the name."

Some minutes later they were sitting in the car driving back to the headquarters of Wolfram & Hart. Spike had been unusually quiet since they had left the hotel, not that Lisa was complaining about it. She had done her job. The ghost had been vanquished, just as requested. It had been completely unspectacular – at least to her. After he had given her the name of his murderer he had simply disintegrated and the last they had seen of him was a content smile slowly spreading over his face. The long silence began to annoy her, but somehow she didn't feel like switching on the radio.

"So..." she let the single word hang loosely in the air.

He briefly looked at her and then stared out of the window again as he had done for the last couple of minutes. A long pause followed.

"What?" Spike finally asked, more to fill the embarrassing gap between her attempts at a conversation than anything else.

"Why are you so quiet?"

"I've been thinking."

"Oh, so you there is actually some brain wave activity. I'm impressed," she said with an expression of mock surprise on her face. He gave her a well-merited sideways glance.

"What about?" the young woman asked curiously, unimpressed by his foul mood.

"The last couple of hours, if you have to know." Another pause followed.

"Why?"

"Goddamn it! Woman, can't you just leave me in peace!"

"No."

He massaged his temples tiredly. Lisa doubted that ghosts could get a headache.

"For starters I just saw a ghost who got a bloody first class ticket the great beyond. Gets to sit on a blasted cloud and happily flap his little feathery wings. And not to forget your little protection spell."

"What about it?"

No response.

"You felt his presence, didn't you? Osiris was watching you," Lisa guessed, giving him an intense stare.

"Yes, whatever it was could have bloody squished me like a bug."

"But he didn't," she answered, stopping in front of a red traffic light.

"But why? I'm dead. I don't belong in this world anymore."

"Maybe, your time to go hasn't come yet," Lisa shrugged her shoulders and stepped on the accelerator as the light switched to green.

"You really think so?" Spike asked interestedly.

"Yes," she nodded simply.

"You cast a protection spell on me...," he grinned as if he was just realizing something.

"Yeah, so what? Go ahead and sue me!" she nervously brushed a strain of hair out of her face.

"So you do actually care a little bit about me."

Lisa broke out in loud laughter, but somehow it didn't sound that convincing.


	4. Me and my shadow

Lisa was headed towards Angel's office. She just came straight from a meeting with Mr. Wyndam-Pryce. He was her direct superior so she had to report to him on a weekly basis concerning the progress of her work. The Englishman seemed to be satisfied with her, because he had praised her efficiency repeatedly. Unfortunately he must have mistaken her for his secretary, because she was now on her way towards the boss's office with the mission to deliver at least a dozen of contracts which needed signing.

"Hallo, Harmony," she greeted Angel's secretary unenthusiastically. Both women had learned to despise each other on sight in the last couple of days.

"Oh, hello, Lisa. You are here because of the contracts? He's already waiting for you," Harmony answered with an equally frosty undercurrent.

"Thank you," Lisa rushed by with her head held high and entered Angel's office.

"Sir...," she began as she entered the room, but was shortly after silenced, being completely unprepared for the wave of aggression and seething hatred that swept over her. Angel and Spike were staring at each other with murder in their eyes, ready to strangle each other throats. The only thing that hindered them from giving into their violent tendencies was the fact that was Spike was incorporeal. Lisa loudly cleared her throat. No reaction.

"Sir?" she asked again hesitantly. It was as if she didn't exist. The heap of paper was slowly getting heavier in her hands and she was getting tired of carrying them around. After all further attempts of attracting both men's attention had failed, she finally decided to walk up to them and nosily slam down the contracts on the huge desk. Angel flinched and awoke from his hatred induced trance, shortly after followed by Spike.

"What! Hum, Lisa, what is it?" the vampire asked confusedly.

"The contracts," Lisa indicated the pile of files on the table, talking slowly as if she was addressing an infant.

"Oh, yes the contracts," he gradually regained his composure.

"Hello, beautiful," Spike greeted her with an appreciative glance that made her slightly nervously. She didn't know how to deal with compliments and much less with open flirting.

"Oh, hey, Spike," Lisa answered awkwardly and refocused her attention on Angel, "Mr. Wyndam-Pryce will later come up himself to discuss the details with you."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," she answered already turning to leave.

"By the way, good work at the hotel last week," Angel called after her, already taking the first file on top of the heap.

"Thank you, sir," the young woman smiled before she left the office hurriedly.

Just as she had closed the door behind her, Spike appeared beside her, simply following her by walking through the wall of Angel's office.

"Oh, no," she muttered under her breath.

In the last few days the ghost had practically become her shadow. Somehow he seemed to magically appear everywhere she went. After a while she had stopped being surprised or angry about it and had stoically given up hope to ever get rid of him. Just yesterday she had run into him, as she had gone to get herself a well- deserved cup of coffee in between working hours. Monosyllabic greetings had been exchanged and then she had busied herself with working the sparkly silver-chromed espresso machine, while Spike hung about in one of the armchairs behind her that were grouped in front of a tiny TV, which was hanging from the ceiling. He had complained about the fact that he couldn't even watch the 'bloody telly', so Lisa had asked him politely – not out of charity, but because his whining had been getting on her nerves - what he wanted to watch, as he could neither switch on the TV nor change channels. She had aimlessly pressed the buttons on the remote control, while she waited for her espresso to run through the machine. Then finally – as nothing else but the 'highly uplifting' prospect of working on some more cases awaited her in the office- some TV programme had caught her attention and they had somehow ended up watching it together, ridiculing almost every scene that had flickered over the small screen above them. Afterwards she had felt extremely guilty. Firstly because she had spent an hour away from her working desk instead of the initially intended ten minutes and secondly because she had enjoyed herself a little too much for comfort.

But today she wasn't in the mood for distractions. "Go away, I've got work to do," she informed him briefly.

"On your coffee break?"

She sighed. "Yes, I have to do some research for my English class."

"Oh, didn't know you were also a student."

"Well, actually I'd like to have a normal job in the not so distant future, thank you," she said making her way to the elevator.

"What's your research about?" he asked her curiously as they waited for the elevator to arrive. Exactly this simple question marked the end of Lisa's patience.

"Why, Spike! Why are you so interested in me?" the way she acted when she asked this question was the most emotional he had seen her in the few days he had come to known her. Her eyes were flashing at him in a mixture of anger and helplessness.

He opened his mouth to answer her but she beat him to it. "If you want me to help you just get it over with and ask me."

"Okay, would you please help me?" Spike asked her pleading at her with his eyes.

Lisa's face was an unreadable mask. The elevator announced his presence and she stepped in. The ghost cursed silently and followed her. "So? What's it going to be?" he asked again getting more and more impatient.

"No."

Spike let out a frustrated scream and hit the wall of the elevator with his fist. To Lisa's surprise it actually slammed down on it without going straight through like she had suspected. "What the bloody hell is your problem? You are the most cold-blooded, emotionless, pig-headed bint I have come across in my entire existence!" he paced up and down in the small cabin.

"How did you do that?" Lisa asked softly, but her question was drowned in the flood of insults and complains that came from Spike's mouth.

"What does it bloody take to make you feel some compassion? To make you feel anything at all? You're a godforsaken sodding ice-queen, that's what you are! Am I supposed to crawl on my knees in front of you!"

The young woman slowly retreated into a corner of the cabin. "I'm sorry," she said weakly, "It is not that I don't..." Lisa momentarily struggled with the words, "that I don't want to help you. I just can't. I'm nothing more than a guide between the realms. I don't have any special powers that could make you corporeal again."

"I see," his anger dissipated as quickly as it had come and his features slowly softened. And with that he turned and left, walking straight through the wall.

Shortly after the elevator reached its destination and Lisa made her way to her office. She was running on autopilot. Her feet knew the way and she let them carry her. After the doors had closed behind her she slumped down on the couch that stood opposite of her desk. She didn't even bother to turn on the light. The young woman stared blankly ahead in the depressing twilight of the room. Somehow she felt empty inside. She always tried to convince herself that she was strong and didn't need anybody, but strangely enough the argument with Spike had actually affected her very deeply. At least more than anything else had done in the last few years. She had gotten used to his company – a fact which disturbed her extremely. At the beginning she had accepted his presence reluctantly, but with the passing of days, she had even begun to enjoy is company. He was the first person in years she had come to regard as something remotely close to a friend and now he was gone. It hurt. Somehow she couldn't quiet shake of the thought that it was her fault. She had messed up again. No wonder, she had done something inexcusable. She had been as naïve and weak to believe she could actually trust someone other than herself, despite of the fact that life had already taught her otherwise. He had only spent some time with her, because he wanted to get her to help him. Nobody ever does something out of complete selflessness. She should have known right from the start. But that was nothing new right? She had always trusted the wrong people. 'This should teach you a lesson. Suits you right," she mentally scolded herself. Life had to go on. She couldn't sit around brooding in the dark forever. Lisa sighed and switched on the lights and almost would have screamed in surprise when she saw Spike lean against the door casually. "Already asked myself how long you were going to sit around in the dark. Could get bloody difficult to get your work done like this," his voice was soft despite his words.

"So what are you reading?" She hesitated a few seconds before she answered.


	5. It's my party and I cry if I want to

So this was Wolfram & Hart's famous annual Halloween bash. Lisa lurked in a corner with her hand clutched firmly around her drink, while she disapprovingly watched the whole scenery. Obviously she wasn't the only one who thought this party was an absolute waste of time. The dance floor was completely empty, except for Harmony who was happily jumping around, seductively swinging her hips in her - for Lisa's taste - a little bit too tight pink glitter dress. Fred and Wesley were standing in a dark corner with long faces, chatting quietly with each other. The word 'wallflowers' suddenly flashed before her eye. She smiled to herself and waved at them as a greeting. After a while looking at the party guests lost its fascination. The young woman blankly stared ahead, dreaming of a quiet evening cuddled up in front of the TV with a glass of red wine. She would have almost spilled her whiskey over her new black dress when Lorne popped up in front of her.

"Oh, honey you are almost as frosty as the ice cubes in your glass. It wouldn't hurt if you showed a little feeling now and then. Come on, give us a smile," the green demon looked at her imploringly.

Lisa forced herself to flash a grin at Lorne. Despite his annoying cheerfulness she somehow liked him.

"That's much better," he said approvingly and touched glasses with her, before he strode off to 'mingle with the crowd', as he called it.

Seconds later a familiar tingle in the pit of her stomach claimed her immediate attention. "So, why are you here?" she asked without bothering to turn around, since she already knew who it was.

"Honestly, I don't know. I guess I wanted to see old Captain Forehead do his butt kissing routine. Figured it be a blast," a hint of amusement was clearly audible in Spike's voice. "You?"

"Well," she looked down on her glass, "for the drinks, mostly."

"Bloody good reason if you ask me."

"Yeah! Oh, would you please look at that! The crowd is already going wild," Lisa commented dryly, cringing her nose as she watched Harmony gyrate.

Soft laughter could be heard from beside her.

They stood there for a while in companionable silence. "So what about we torture ourselves for another half an hour and than head off?"

"Movie? Your office?" he agreed, nodding his head vigorously.

"Yeah, plus you can watch me get drunk and pity myself," the young woman smirked sarcastically.

"Well, thank God, finally something to look forward to," Spike answered, grinning at her.

She giggled in response. Lisa eyes widened in surprise. She clasped her hand over mouth immediately. Strange! Why had she just behaved like that? She wasn't the giggling type. Maybe, the alcohol was to blame for that.

"Well, I'll go and take in the complete misery of this...party or whatever the bleeding hell it is. See, you later, pet." Spike announced and strode off.

"Yeah, have fun!" she called after him.

Then someone bumped into her. A cascade of whiskey rained down on her new dress and the glass exploded into tiny pieces as it hit the floor.

"I'm terribly sh... shoorry," a totally drunken Fred slurred, leaning on Wesley for support.

Lisa suddenly felt anger bubble up inside of her. She didn't know exactly why it happened, but at this point it wasn't like as if she actually cared. Normally this incident would have only inspired her to shrug and dismiss the whole situation with a flippant wave of her hand, but now her rage suddenly burst out of her like a hot geyser. "The fact that you're sorry doesn't change anything! This dress is ruined! Damn it!" she screamed at the other woman, who flinched in surprise, while Wesley silently observed the whole scene in drunken bafflement.

Lisa grabbed a napkin and tried to clean off her dress, which was, of course, absolutely pointless. "See! Just as I said!" she hissed rubbing at the stains desperately. "Absolutely ruined!"

"There'sssss no need to sh...scream at Fred," Wesley finally decided to speak up.

Lisa's eyes reduced to malicious little slits. "Really? You think so?" her gaze shot daggers at them.

"Yesss," he tried to assume some authority – at least as much as it was possible in his state. Oddly enough it worked. Lisa suddenly realized that she had been much too hard on Fred. "You're right," she hung her head.

Her anger had finally dissipated and now she felt bad about the fact that she had screamed at Fred. "I'm terrible sorry," she gripped the other woman's arm looking at her pleadingly, "Can you please forgive me? My behaviour was absolutely out of line."

"Hey, lighten up, sis" the young scientist swayed like blade of grass in a mild breeze, "everything' sss all right. Have another drink and don't worry. I'll be fffine 'cos I'm with my good buddy Wesley and... ...and... this party is marvel...marvellous," and with that the drunken duo was gone, taking an odd zigzag course through the crowd.

'Wait a minute. Something is wrong here', Lisa thought while she watched the twosome head off. Suddenly a thought occurred to her. Fred and Wesley couldn't be drunk. It wasn't possible since they had been completely sober only seconds ago when she said hello to them. And what about her sudden outburst? She didn't recognize herself anymore.

Lisa blinked a few times as if she was slowly waking up from a dream. She gulped, still feeling a knot in her throat, an uncomfortable reminder of the brief dispute that had arose only seconds ago between her and the young scientist. What had just happened? She felt like her emotions were totally out of control. One minute she was angry and the next she was overflowing with remorse. Lisa wasn't used to the violent force with which she was now exposed to her own feelings. Normally she briefly felt them stir beneath the though persona she had forced herself to become and now they had totally broken loose like a wild dog from a leash. The young woman started to get worried. Only this time it was not the sentiment she thought she knew all too well. It wasn't the kind of uncomfortable thought that briefly surfaces from the depths of your subconscious and you can easily get rid off. No, what she experienced right then and there was much worse. Lisa felt some sort of disturbing terror reach out inside of her and clasp its filthy claws around her heart which immediately sped up its rhythm as of it wanted to escape its frightening gasp. She had to find somebody to help her. Something was going on! But who could she talk to? Maybe, Angel. Yes, definitely Angel! She had to find him. Now! Her eyes nervously searched the room. Somehow the hall had magically filled up in the last few minutes. Demons with horns, standing in a corner looking around as if they were suspecting an attack any minute now, lawyers, more lawyers, clients – the rich and beautiful variety – and finally Angel. He was talking to, no wait; make that kissing, a girl and dragging her into his office. Shortly after the door was slammed shut behind them. By a wild guess this meant she could write off his help.

There was only one other person she would go for help to now – Spike. She him spotted quickly, standing in a corner talking to Fred, Wesley and Gunn – his peroxide blond hair was hard to miss even in a crowd that big. She circumstantially made her way across the dance floor, which was by now crammed full with people. Her panic was giving her extra speed. She had finally made it, though not without some angry elbows rammed into her ribs, but she had barely noticed them at all.

"I need help! Please! Somebody help me! Something's terribly wrong!" she exclaimed with a slightly trembling voice.

Before anybody could answer her, Spike cut in. "Pet, how wonderful to see you! If been waiting all evening to dance with you," Spike flashed a happy grin at her.

The effect of his presence suddenly hit her with the impact of a meteorite. Gone was her panic, driven away by another feeling much stronger than the one she had experienced before. She felt her knees turn into jelly under his gaze. 'Great! The only thing missing now is you starting to blush like an infatuated school girl,' her inner voice scolded her.

Lisa felt the heat creep up her cheeks and she could tell that by now she had to be at least beat red, which was bound to make up for a rather dramatic effect with her fair skin and dark hair. Then her hormonally clouded brain registered something. This wasn't the Spike she knew! He never was that...she looked at him searching for words to describe his state...disgustingly chipper.

"Are you alright, Spike?" she asked timidly, looking at him as if she expected him to explode into fuzzy pink astral dust any second now. What would she do if something happened to him?

"I'm fine. In fact, I never felt better in my whole...ohm...un-life," he answered smiling like a gigantic Cheshire Cat.

"There's something wrong with him!" she called out in terror.

"Yes, and he's not the only one," Gunn announced, stepping from one foot on the other as if he was a little boy who urgently needed to go to the toilet.

"It's Lorne. He must have done something. He had his sleep removed," he indicated the green demon who stood a few feet from them.

"What's with me, kittens?" Lorne asked with a grin on his face, turning around as he had picked up his name. He was completely out of breath from dancing all night long.

They grabbed Lorne and dragged the protesting demon into Angel's office. While the door swung open Lisa suddenly remember why it was probably not the best of ideas to go in there. Startled by the noise of the sudden commotion Angel's and Eve's heads appeared from behind the sofa, both of them were completely nude and sweaty.

Spike decided to comment the obvious, "Hey! Angel's getting some! Good on you, mate!"

Lisa tried to suppress a gigantic grin, but somehow she didn't manage to and finally ended up laughing out loud, which earned her some disapproving glares. "Sorry," she managed to get out in between giggles, "Just try to ignore me, okay?" She tried to focus on how serious their whole situation was and after a while her laughing fits finally dissipated and made room to a general feeling of concern. "What is going on?" she asked after a while – her frail voice expressing perfectly her state of utter preoccupation.

In the midst of the general confusion finally one think led to another and Wesley, though drunker than a sailor during land leave, figured out what this was all about.  
"It is Lorne. Every he told us to do we're doing. Spike's thinking positive; Gunn is peeing all over the office..."

"And werrre a little bit drunk," Fred added.

"Yes, but not because we drank, but because Lorne told us to be drunk," Wesley pointed out.

"Yeah, that makes sense," Lisa muttered to herself, slowly realizing what was happening to her. "He also told me to let my feelings show."

She suddenly felt the overwhelming desire to leave, which was actually not uncalled for, as her feelings were completely exposed. They lay open and were completely unprotected. The outer hull had been torn away and what was left was the soft and fragile core. Nobody should be able to see her like that. Hell, not even she wanted to see herself like that! It was just unnatural. So, of course, Lisa was rather anxious to get out of this office.

"Wes, Fred, go find Lorne's sleep..." Angel started to give out orders.

"Sir," Lisa cut in quickly, "Do you mind if I leave? Since I can't do anything to help..."

He briefly considered her request. "Alright, go! And on a second thought – take Spike with you. We don't need any voyeurs around here," Angel shot a lusty sideways glance at Eve.

Lisa nodded, wisely ignoring the hungry gazes both of them were giving each other.

Lisa was not too anxious about having anybody witness her current state. As a matter of fact it was absolutely humiliating; but lesser spectators of her grotesque emotional rollercoaster the better. She'd rather spent the next view hours – if it actually took that long to solve this problem - alone with Spike, than with a room full of people, some of which were her direct superiors. Lisa skipped out of the still open doors as soon as the words had left Angel's mouth, not bothering to look left or right. She just wanted to reach the shelter of her office as quickly as possible. When she finally did, Lisa felt relieve wash over her, which was actually a rather pleasant experience. Then a thought struck her. "Spike?"

"Yeah," he was still wearing that disgustingly cheerful grin on his face. If it wasn't going to disappear anytime soon, she would probably start to dislike him – well, more than usually.

"I know it's probably a lot to ask, but please do me a favour and don't talk to me in the next couple of minutes."

"Oh, why is that?" he asked curiously looking like a child who had just been told to sit still.

"Because, I feel really silly having those outbursts all the time. So, I figured if you don't talk to me we can diminish the risk of them appearing every five seconds," he had forced her to point out the obvious. Her voice was seething with annoyance.

"I'm sorry," Lisa added in an afterthought. She hadn't wanted to come of this unkind. "This is just very hard," she admitted after a while.

"Oh, come on don't you be so unconstructive. We could use the time to get to know each other a little bit better. Don't you think?"

"No, I don't think so at all!" she hissed between clenched teeth. Lisa abruptly turned her back to him and walked up to the window, signalling clearly that the discussion was over for her.

"You're not telling me something. Don't you think we can find a solution together?" Lisa buried her head in her hands. His chipper positivism was so exhausting.

"You're sounding like a social worker. Just stop it, okay?"

"A social worker? You're bloody damn right, you are. But that's something good, right? They're a nice punch of folks. Help a lot..."

"Shut up, please!" her voice was a frail trembling plea for mercy.

"You know if you talked to somebody about it, you would probably feel better...," she saw his reflection hover next to hers in the window glass. It got misty as the tears formed in her eyes. She hadn't cried in years. With all the strength she had inside of her she tried to postpone the inevitable. She would not cry. It couldn't happen. She wouldn't allow it. But just to ridicule her- it seemed - the first drop of salt water ran down her cheek.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed. "It didn't want you to see this. I'm just pathetic, really."

"Your not pathetic, love," his soft voice said beside her. A strangled laugh escaped her throat. He really thought that he could brush aside a life filled with doubts and disappointments with just a few kind words?

"Is there something I can...I there something I can do?" Spike asked hesitantly. He didn't seem to be used to that kind of situation.

"Is there something you can do?" she repeated, lost in thoughts.

"No I don't think you can do something about the fact that I'm a complete failure," she paused trying to catch her breath. The tears were now running freely. She had finally given up the futile attempt to fight them back. In the depths of her soul a feeling of discontent stirred that had been suppressed for too long. She had locked it up in a cell, behind an iron door and thrown away the key, but now it broke free and made his existence notable by forcing her to speak words she had held back for so long. They were rolling from the tip of her tongue without her being able to stop them.

"There are times when I feel like the complete useless and other times I can convince myself to drag myself just a few more years through this sad little life. I can't change anything, I can't help. I can't even be a normal person." She ran her hands through her hair. "I don't even know why I'm telling you all this." Lisa studied his reflection in the window, not daring to look at him directly. He probably found her whole outburst utterly disgusting.

"Maybe, because I'm your friend," something in the way he said it let her turn her head.

"You're my friend?" she asked incredulously.

"Yes, and I don't think you're a failure," he admitted.

"Yes, that's because you barely know me," she laughed humourlessly, turning back her head towards the window. He honoured her comment with a disapproving look.

"There were times when I was different. When I still thought I could change the world. I cared; I actually cared so much it hurt. I guess I've always been someone who can't settle for doing something half-heartedly," the corner of her mouth briefly twitched to an ironic smile, while she continued talking to Spike's reflection, "When I loved I did it with all of my heart, when I hurt, I hurt like hell. But that's no way to live, is it?"

"Is there any other way?" he asked. A hint of melancholy was audible in his words.

"What do you know about it?" the question sounded harsh, but the tone of her voice was soft and vulnerable.

"A lot more than you could imagine, pet. Guess that's what got me into this mess, in the first place." Spike sighed, referring to his current non-corporeal state. He suddenly looked very tired, as if the weight of centuries was pressing down on him.  
"No matter how sorry we are for ourselves...we are what we are. We can't change that," Spike added after a while.

She hung her head. She knew all to well that she couldn't change who she was. No matter how many 'disguises' she wore, no matter how hard she pretended to be somebody else, inside she would always be the same.

Spike stepped closer so they were standing next to each other, only inches apart. Minutes passed without any of them speaking.

"All those shiny little lights out there..." he finally said referring to the skyline of Los Angeles that glittered below them like diamonds strewn on a black velvet scarf. "We tend to look at them for a little while, but somehow our eyes always wander up there," he pointed at the stars that twinkled in the clear night sky. "Because they burn with such a hot fire we can see them across the oceans of time, across thousands of miles, even across different galaxies. And every time we look we start dreaming and lose ourselves this vast infiniteness."

"Truly poetic," she managed a lopsided grin.

He chuckled to himself in amusement, "Yes, I guess so."

Her tears were slowly subsiding. In a way she felt comforted, though her situation hadn't changed much. It had simply felt good talking to somebody.

"Thank you," she said after a while.

"Don't mention it, pet," Lisa would have almost screamed in surprise when she felt him touch her hand. He gave it a brief an affectionate squeeze and then let go again.

"How were you able to do that? I mean you're a ghost..."

He grinned boyishly, scratching the back of his neck, "Yeah, but I have my ways...Well, if I want to do something bad enough... I can you know...touch things."

She smiled at him for the first time since they met and he couldn't help but mirror her expression. Then the phone rang and the moment passed. It was Wesley, telling them that the situation was now under control.


	6. You don't have to say 'I do'

**Author's note:** It sure took me a hell of a lot time to continue. As I've already said in my profile, I was immensely blocked and had some other stuff to deal with. Sorry for the long wait, you guys. Well, anyways… I'll keep them chapters coming on a weekly basis. I also rearranged the first 5 parts, concerning a few blemishes, so they should be better readable now. Off we go then:

Lisa stepped out of the elevator with the sort of stubborn determination that was characteristic of her when a rather exhausting and long work shift lay ahead of her. She started cursing elaborately when one of her heels got stuck in the elevator door.

"Get out, you stupid little piece of worthless ," Lisa hissed between clenched teeth while pulling effortlessly on her shoe.

The now closing elevator door was bumping softly against her leg, making a protesting humming sound in the process. With a final and rather brutal haul she wrestled the shoe from the elevator's iron grip. Lisa lifted her hand triumphantly, eyeing her now rather jagged looking high heel. The young woman raised her eyebrows critically. Yet another pair of ruined shoes.

Only now it came to her that she had most likely attracted attention to herself. In fact a few people had gathered to overlook her heroic battle with the elevator. Lisa flinched in embarrassment and started hurrying down the hallway.

When she passed the reception area she heard Harmony's evil snigger. Lisa decided her behaviour would be dignified sufficiently by an icy death glare, so she refrained from hissing a sarcastic retort at the blond secretary.

Those embarrassing little accidents happened to her rarely, but since her recent emotional outburst she felt somewhat insecure. The young woman had develop a overall tendency of being extraordinary clumsy. There had already been some casualties. Only this morning she had broken her favourite cup. She was still fuming over that.

"Hey, wait up, love!" she heard a distinctly familiar voice call from behind her when she had just passed Angel's office.

She let out a resigned grunt, but stopped walking nevertheless. It seemed she just couldn't deny her masochistic tendencies. Lisa turned around to mutter a monosyllabic greeting at Spike. She faintly wondered whether the vampire had had the chance to witness her pathetic display of inelegance, but quickly discharged that rather dismal thought. He would have mentioned it by now. Yes, he definitely would have.

"Are you, ok?" he asked tilting his head to the left, while he regarded her critically.

"What!" the young woman jump slightly. The question seemed to have caught her by surprise, though it was not at all unusual. "Yeah, guess so," the answer was accompanied by a dismissive wave of her hand.

"Are you embarrassed because of what happened the other night? Look…"

"Why should I be embarrassed? I just bared my soul to you yesterday evening. No biggy," she fumbled with the rim of her jacket, avoiding his gaze. "You can be quite observant at times, you know," she added under her breath.

"Damn right I am! And by now I know you good enough to see through your little Emma Frost routine," he quipped back.

Despite herself she had to smile. "You read the X-Men?"

"That's beside the point," Spike responded quickly. "We were just talking about how you felt uncomfortable about opening up to me…or better to anyone at all."

"Look, I just don't think that this is the right place or the right time to discuss such matters," she vaguely indicated the direction of the reception desk behind them.

"'cause of her?" Spike pointed over his shoulder. He squinted his eyes together in annoyance and turned around abruptly.

Harmony jumped into motion the second Spike's angry gaze settled on her. The blond secretary meticulously put all effort into pretending to be busy with paper work. Unfortunately she was holding up the papers the wrong way round.

"Daft cow," he muttered knowing fully well that her keen vampire hearing would be able to pick it up.

"What did you just call me!" Harmony squealed in annoyance.

"Well, If you have to know…A daft cow that is even too bloody stupid to pretend not putting her nose into other people's business," Spike retorted swaggering over to her, leaving Lisa to contemplate whether she wanted to witness the ensuing conversation or just comfortably sneak off to her office. She decided on staying. Just relax, lean back and enjoy the show. A satisfied grin spread on her face.

"I'm a daft cow? Well let's see if this daft cow will let you have the parcel-thingy that just arrived for you this morning!" Harmony's voice was threatening to double over with anger. She crossed her arms over her chest and through back her blonde mane with a proud huff that said "that will teach you".

Spike shrugged his shoulders trying to seem nonchalantly, "Won't kill me. Oh, wait I'm already dead." His retort sounded a tad bit weak.

Harmony smiled maliciously, "Oh, come on blondy bear." Blondy bear? Lisa flinched at the sound of that horrid nickname.

"I know you can't wait to find out what this is all about. And that is exactly why I'm doing this." She pulled out the box in question and put it down on the reception desk. It lay there tauntingly, its mysteries waiting to be revealed.

"Just go ahead and open it….Oh, no!" she exclaimed in mock horror. "I totally forgot. You're a pathetic ghost like the one with the Castle and the chains who wanted to scare this family..," she frowned apparently thinking hard.

"That would be the Canterville ghost, you blond-haired bimbo," Spike shook his head unbelievingly.

"Yeah, so I'm a bimbo. At least I'm corporeal."

At that point Lisa decided to give up her role as a silent observer. After all the conversation was beginning to get dull. She stepped up to arguing opponents and took the box from the desk. "Harmony, I'm sure your therapist will be very proud of you. Self acceptance is the first step towards healing."

"Let's see what this is all about," Lisa said and gestured Spike to follow her with a nudge of her head.

The door fell into lock behind them. Neither of them had talked on the way to Lisa's office. An indefinable tension was hanging in the air. What were they supposed to make of this strange parcel? Lisa distractedly switched on the light and threw her back bag on the floor next to her desk. She then pulled the box out from under her coat to have a closer look at it. It merely had the address of the law firm printed on it and Spike's name. Besides that nothing else. No clue about the mystery sender whatsoever. She shook it cautiously, making sure that she didn't damage whatever was inside. No sound could be heard. It felt light as if there was nothing in it. But why should anybody send them an empty parcel?

"Well, should I leave you alone with that box, so you two can get a little more intimate? Maybe get passed first base?" Spike asked sarcastically, pacing back and forth in front of her impatiently.

She didn't react to his mocking tone of voice. "You should know as well as I that around here nothing is as it seems…," she paused. "Since I've been working here I've gotten those odd vibes from this place…I just don't trust those lawyers," the young woman added under her breath.

"Neither do I," he looked at her sincerely.

"This might not be a mere parcel. Or maybe it's just a bad joke. Hell, what do I know? Look, I'm just saying I'm having kind of a strange feeling about this…" Lisa explained looking at him searching for a sign of agreement.

"So do we open it or what?" he looked at her expectantly.

Trust him to ignore not so subtle allusions. He was a hopeless case. She rolled her eyes at him and reached for the letter opener that lay on the table behind her.

"Your wish is my command, but keep in mind that whatever follows now is entirely your fault…entirely! Whether my arms will be ripped off or I get turned into a heap of green ectoplasm. You will be the one to blame."

"Pet…Lisa, I'd gladly take that burden off your slim shoulders and be your knight in shining armour, but I'm incorporeal. Now that you made your point crystal clear, can we finally open this bloody box?"

"Ok," she shrugged and with a fast movement she sliced open the box and was momentarily blinded by a bright flash of light. The carton slipped from her hand and landed on the carpet with a soft thud. Neither of them noticed.

After blinking repeatedly the world finally came back into focus again. "What in Osiris's name was that?" Lisa gasped

"Hell! I don't bloody know either…," Spike was still rubbing his eyes as if being blinded by a gigantic flash light.

"Are you alright?"

"Just feeling a little bit a wobbly. Should be fine in a sec," Spike answered while he instinctively reached out to support himself on the desk. Normally his hand should have grabbed right through, but not this time. It connected with the smooth, cool, wooden surface of the desk and that was oh such a pleasant feeling. As if in shock Spike drew back his hand immediately an look at it incredulously. Could it be after all of this time? Had he really felt this or was it just a figment of his imagination?

"What happened? Is something wrong with your hand?" worry was now clearly evident in her voice. Lisa wasn't able to question him any further, as she was engulfed by a pair of strong arms in a matter of split seconds.

"Guess not," she mumbled into Spike's leather clad shoulder and then it struck her like lightning.

"You are….!" the young woman gasped for air in sheer astonishment of her realization. Never in all time had somebody died, become a ghost, almost slipped into hell and then rematerialized again. "You are corporeal!"

"Funny, love! What made you realize that?" he asked amusedly still not letting go of her.

"Because you're almost breaking my rips…that's why!"

"Sorry, 'bout that. Can't blame a bloke for being happy to have a new custom made flesh and bones."

Lisa stepped back seemingly bussing herself with cleaning of some imaginary dirt from her jacket sleeves. She did it just to annoy him. Old habits die hard. Meanwhile she looked at him from under her lashes curiously.

Spike didn't notice. He was lost in thoughts. His rather limited existence had suddenly been substituted by a sheer abundance of possibilities. All those little niceties he had missed in the passed few months: the taste of blood, decent liquor, the intoxication of a good fight and smoking. God, what wouldn't he give for a fag right now? 'And I wouldn't mind a decent shag either', the voice in the back of his head added for good measure.

"Spike? Hello, anyone there?" Lisa stepped up to the vampire who was apparently lost in thought while a strange grin was playing around the corners of his mouth. This was rarely a sign of something good. She waved her hand in front of his eyes in order to attract his attention and gasped in surprise when he suddenly caught it in midair. His hand felt cool on her skin and made Goosebumps run down her arm. She had completely forgotten he was a vampire and that his body temperature equalled that of the room. Also she wasn't used to him touching her or better letting anyone touch her at all.

Spike abruptly drew her closer. There was an unspoken question in his eyes. What did he want of her?

His soft voice finally broke the tense silence of the room. "I'm not known for being one of the wisest men. I tend to be impatiently and to make a lot of mistakes."

His voice was suddenly right beside her ear. Its tone send shivers down her spine. Lisa had talked a lot to Spike in the past few weeks, but never had his voice sounded anything like this. So low, so seductive. The implication that floated on the undertone of his voice let her imagination run wild. Her breathing was getting more elaborate. Still he didn't let go of her wrist.

"Just tell me to stop. Am I supposed to stop now?"

"Stop what?" the words already sounded dumb when they left her mouth, but she wanted to win some time. She retreated until her back hit the desk behind her. He followed her like a hungry predator, who had circled his prey and was ready to start his final attack.

"You're a smart girl. I'm sure you will figure it out," he responded softly, putting his hands down on the table left and right of her, so she couldn't escape him again. A confident little smirk flitted over his face, when he saw her blush. She sometimes acted so tough, yet now she seemed so innocent.

"No I don't", she answered trying to think of something over than how his lips would feel on hers. Was she going crazy? After all this was Spike…the annoying guy she had come to call her friend. There was too much at risk. Wait! It was time to remind herself how much actually was at risk! Was she really contemplating on giving in? On letting him close? No! No! No! She couldn't bare all this again…Getting emotionally involved meant ending up hurt. Those were the rules burned into her heart by the tears spilled over the death of one too many friend or lover.

"You don't really want this. You are just a starved man….," she said trying to look him in the eyes without trying to think of how close he was standing to her.

"You are just afraid," he whispered into her ear. "All I want is one tiny kiss. No need to get preoccupied, this is not the part where you say 'Yes, I do.'"

His hand slowly wandered up her arm, then over her shoulder and finally settled on the back of her neck, where it traced distracting little patterns. His lips touched the sensitive skin right beside her ear and softly trailed over her cheek to her mouth. Her head stopped working for a moment and her whole body started feeling tingly. She felt him smile against her lips.

"Relax," he murmured in between kisses. His tongue teasingly touched her lips asking for entrance. Lisa couldn't resist anymore, though she had sworn herself she would. It just felt too good. She slightly opened her mouth and let him deepen the kiss. Seemingly against her will her hands wandered up his back and ended up kneading through his blond hair. She never wanted this kiss to end. It made her feel alive for the first time in years.

He grazed her lips with his teeth playfully. "Now, this wasn't so bad, wasn't it?"

"No, it wasn't," her voice sounded husky and slightly foreign in her ears. Luckily she was slowly coming to her senses before this madness could go any further, because that was what it was…madness.

"Stop," she whispered, her voice barely audibly at first.

"Stop!" Lisa finally said determinately.

And so he did and she immediately regretted her words afterwards. Spike raised his hands and stepped back until he leaned against the wall opposite of her. He wrapped his duster around himself tightly, still eying her with this unquenchable hunger in his eyes.

"You…you didn't have to put the whole room between us," Lisa said, still a little bit shaky on her legs. She wasn't entirely sure what to make of the whole situation.

"Yes, I did. Otherwise we would soon do more than just snogging."

"Oh," her fingers where unconsciously touching her lips. Lisa's dark lipstick was slightly smudged. Her eyes had a faraway look to them.

"Are you ok?" Spike asked concernedly.

"There's something wrong," Lisa murmured as if to herself. It was like standing at the shore watching a gigantic wave coming closer and closer. She braced herself for whatever was to come, nevertheless she wasn't prepared sufficiently. It felt like a punch to the stomach when her medial abilities suddenly kicked in.

The room seemed to contract, ready to grind her bones to meal. The orderly pattern of the carpet was substituted by a chaos of lines that moved like angry rattlesnakes. Then a piercing scream broke the threatening silence of the room. As if called to order, reality slipped back into place and temporarily covered the chaos of which she knew that it was still lurking somewhere behind it.


	7. Visits from the grave

Lisa stormed out on the corridor with Spike on toe. She quickly made out the source of the commotion, which was not too difficult given the conspicuity of the situation. There was a young woman standing in the middle of the corridor. Her eyes were wide in horror and her gaze was fixed on her hand in silent bewilderment. Blood trickled down her arms and stained her white blouse. A scissor was sticking out of her palm.

"What have you done! What have you done to me!" she sobbed in pure terror.

Another figure advanced threateningly from the shadows. When he stepped into the light Lisa vaguely recognized the young man's face as one of her co-workers. She didn't know any of them by name, their mutual correspondence was limited to a friendly greeting here and there at the beginning of workshifts.

When Lisa observed the young man more closely she noticed an important detail that had escaped her until now. She sucked in her breath in surprise. It looked like he was crying blood.

"That will teach you! You always borrow my stuff, but you never return it. Your doing it on purpose and now you'll pay for it. Everybody has to pay," he thundered raising a paper cutter over his head like a sword, ready to strike her down.

Lisa was ready to throw herself at him, though she knew her chances on wrestling the weapon out of her colleague's hands were actually pretty slim, him being probably stronger than her. It was not bravery...rather instinct. With grim determination she hurried down the corridor, but Spike was a little bit faster than her. Unlike her, he was eager for a fight. He hadn't had a decent one in months.

"Sorry, mate," the blond vampire grabbed the other man's arm, effectively keeping him from executing the deadly strike, "Do you mind if I borrow this?" he wrenched the paper cutter out of the lawyer's grasp and drove it unceremoniously into the ceiling behind him. It's grip vibrated only centimetres from where the young man's head was. After having overcome his initial surprise, the man let out an angry howl and threw himself at Spike, who only grinned smugly and then knocked him down with one single blow.

"I think you're right, love. There's definitely something wrong," Spike called out to Lisa from over his shoulder, looking down on his unconscious opponent.

* * *

They had come to see Angel not get a lecture about a prophecy by some frigging stuffy Englishman. So it was something about Angel becoming human again, after sufficiently atoning for his sins, that much she had understood. Now Spike's reappearance as a souled and now corporeal vampire champion was threatening the balance, as there were suddenly two vampires signed up for the course on "how-do-I-become-human-again". 

Geeze, she could literally see the testosterone bouncing of the walls. Spike and Angel seemed to hate each other to the guts. It didn't take a genius to understand as much. Whenever men acted like that, it was always about who's the bravest, the toughest or strongest and usually it also involved a girl.

The Englishman bent over the scrolls, now translating something about a Cup of Perpetual Torment, from which the champion had to drink in order to accept his destiny. Fighting the good fight, saving the world and what not. Lisa stifled a yawn. Please, as if something like that actually existed and could be found in an opera house in Death Valley of all places. You really had to be dumb to buy such a load crap. And, of course, she saw Spike hurrying towards the doors only seconds later. She briefly looked around. Nobody else had seen him go. Lisa quickly raised from her seat to follow him.

"Off to that opera house I suppose?" the young woman called after him, having drawn shut the door behind her.

"This isn't the time for conversation," Spike answered without stopping to walk.

"Funny, I remember you pestering me all the time in the last couple of weeks. Back then I wasn't in the mood for talking either, but that didn't stop you…" normally that comment would have provoked him sufficiently for a comeback. This time it didn't. Lisa sighed in resignation.

"So you and Angel are going to beat each other to bloody bulbs over that stupid cup, I guess?" she asked with sarcasm tripping from her voice, while she hurried along besides him.

"That's the plan."

"Yeah, maybe also Wolfram & Hardt's plan of getting you both out of the picture. If you are going to kill each other, they can lean back in their armchairs comfortably. Problem solved, case closed. Ever thought about that?"

"This is my destiny and I won't let him take it from me this time."

"This time? Sounds like this something personal. About a girl?" she asked half jokingly.

"You could say so," Spike answered while entering the elevator, half expecting her to follow him, but Lisa had stopped walking at his last words. The shiny metal doors were slowly closing, effectively ending their conversation.

"Don't get killed," Lisa called out to him seemingly nonchalant, as she abruptly turned on heels and walked away. She would need some time to work through those newly gained information.

"I'll do my best, " she heard him say, followed by the bling of the elevator, that announced that the doors had closed and that he was off looking for the "holy grail".

Only seconds later the door of the Englishman's office opened with a bang. Entrance Angel. The race had begun.

* * *

_The water surface lay dark and still before her. Nothing moved and no sound could be heard. Not even the characteristic dripping of water mingled in with the splashing sound of swimming sewer rats. It was like stepping into a black and white photography. The sewers…She had been her a million times, but this time it was different. This was not a cosy place to be in, but she had gotten used to it and like everything one grows familiar with, it had lost its terror. Being scared was a luxury she had denied herself a long time ago. It immobilizes you, makes you unable to think… in short you usually become a useless shivering mess._

_She knew what would ensue, what path to take through this labyrinth of tunnels. She knew every step by heart, every gesture like an actor playing out the same part for the umpteenth time. Nevertheless she couldn't shake off this strange feeling. The young woman shook her head as if to free herself from those disquieting thoughts. She forced herself to take the first step...then all hell broke loose. A loud howling resounded through the long tunnels and let her step falter for a second. She tried to concentrate. She had to walk on. It was the only way to end this._

_The surface of the dark pools was starting to ripple. This hadn't happened before. This was not to supposed to happen! She braced herself for whatever was to come, her hands balled into fists at her side. The howling increased in intensity. Her eyes widened in disbelieve. Suddenly the water was everywhere. Like a hundred ice cold hands it tore on her clothes, her hair, slapped her in the face brutally. For a moment she thought she could actually feel nails digging into her skin._

_She fought against the onslaught of the torrent trying desperately to stay on her feet, but in the end she had to give up. The ice cold stream started to make her limps feel heavy. With a surprised scream she fell. Murky water streamed into her mouth and invaded her lungs. She crashed against the stone wall behind her and slowly slid downwards. As if to mock her the water was now slowly retreating, returning to its previous state of eerie calmness. Afraid to move she just sat there, her wet dark hair hanging into her face._

_Lisa's loud coughing resounded loudly in the tunnels. Every bone in her body hurt. She heard approaching steps, but felt too tired and exhausted to even look up or care. Two dirty boots and its respective owner came to hold in front of her. She knew those boots from somewhere…_

_"You look a mess…," a familiar masculine voice noticed. She hadn't heard that voice in a long time. It was like a blow to the stomach._

_"I'm sure you don't look so good either – being dead and all..," Lisa replied, wincing in pain, when she unsuccessfully tried to stand up and failed pitiably__. She tried to avoid looking at her vis-à-vis. She wasn't sure she could handle it._

_"Why the big entrance? Why are you sneaking around in my dreams? I thought you had enough of it by now," she brushed the hair out of her face and __stubbornly__ decided to continue staring into the bluish dark tunnel in front of her, instead of looking at her counterpart._

_"To warn you," the young man lowered himself to eyelevel with her. He still looked the same as the last time she saw him. That light brown hair, the green eyes, the attractive dimple on his chin. About seventeen._

_"Charlie…," ironically his name slid over her lips easily. Unlike the times she had cried herself to sleep repeating it over and over again like a prayer to the Gods._

_"Glad you remember me, princess," he winked at her. Since they had been little, he had always called her like this._

_She let out a bitter laugh. The retort she had planned out in her head just wouldn't leave her mouth._

_The smile on Charlie's face slowly faded, as he remembered why he had come to visit her. His time was limited and though he was ecstatic to see her again, he had to ruin this moment by delivering her the inevitable bad news._

_"I came to warn you," he started vaguely._

_"Wait you're the ghost of Christmas last?" Lisa asked sarcastically._

_"Afraid not," he didn't even smile. It had to be serious._

_"He's after you again and he won't rest until he gets what he wants. You can't save me, princess, but you can save everyone else."_

_Lisa was quickly getting worried. "What do you mean I can't save you? Who is he? What the hell are you talking about? Who is following you, Charlie?" she had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach._

_"Baku." This was the answer she had dreaded the most._

_The words get stuck in her throat and she needed a while to compose herself. "It can't be. We vanquished him the night you..., " Lisa stopped. This was ridiculous. Even now she couldn't bring herself to say it. Those simple words would make it even more real…would make it hurt even more._

_"The night I died," he finished the sentence for her._

_"Yes, the night I let you die," her words were barely above a whisper. She hung her head. The memories flashed in her mind again like they had done so often in the past years. Her mournful strangled voice that chanted out a spell into the night. Glassy green eyes fixed lifelessly on a point in the distance so far far away she would never be able to reach it in this lifetime. Pain, anger and desperation._

_"It was my decision, my life, princess," Charlie's words were soft and comforting, but the warm undertone of his voice escaped her. She couldn't hear it, like she couldn't stop to blaming herself._

_"You have to leave now, Lisa. He's close by," his rare use of her first name gave the words more emphasis. Charlie held out his hand to her, inviting her to take it with a friendly nod of his head. She gingerly reached for it as if afraid it would disintegrate into thin air when she touched it._

_He pulled her to her feet in one swift motion. His finger felt deceptively warm against her skin, yet she knew she was talking to a ghost. "This is just a dream," he smiled at her and brushed a stubborn strain of loose hair behind her ear like he had done so many times._

_"A dream from which you have to wake up now," Charlie continued firmly, with a regret clearly audible in his voice. "I will always be with you, my dear princess. When you're looking for me, look within your heart," pressed a tender kiss to her temple and then softly but determinedly pushed her away._

_"A dream," Lisa repeated his words full of amazement. They seemed to be magical and to decrypt the mysteries of a whole universe. "A dream," realization spread on her face and slowly she felt the imaginary reality slipping away. The colours suddenly became blurry and started to brighten. From the back of the tunnel she could faintly make out a formless greyish mass that was approaching quickly A sense of dread overcame her. Lisa reached out for Charlie's hand again, but this time it slipped right through him, as if she herself was a ghost._

She awoke in her bed with a scream in her throat and the memory of Charlie's sad goodbye smile. The t-shirt she had slept in clung icy cold to her body like she had taken a swim in it. Her breath was leaving her mouth in rapid intervals. Had this been a mere dream? It hadn't felt like it.

A feeling that had been buried deep down inside of her seized hold of her with an unexpected intensity. Terror. Her limps started shaking uncontrollably. If that is true…This couldn't be true. It just couldn't be. Lisa repeated those words over and over in her mind.

The young woman swung her legs out of bed energetically, but her decisiveness was suddenly quenched. Dizziness swept over her and grey dots danced before her eyes as if she was about to faint. She had to bring up an enormous amount of concentration to master the simple things that suddenly seemed so difficult. Lisa tried to calm herself taking steady breaths and finally was able to stand up. With slow and ginger steps she made her way into the living room, that was bathed in the greyish blue light of the morning sun. The neon green digits of her video recorder announced it was 5:17 in the morning.

She came to a halt in front of a closet with a milky glass sliding door. With a swift movement, Lisa had carried out uncountable times, she opened the doors which revealed a little alter. In the middle of it a simple bronze statue of Osiris, ruler of the underworld. His facial features into which she had stared so often, seemed calm and regal, even peaceful. Lisa let out an ironic snort. She felt everything but calm, but she had to be, in order to get the information she needed. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on the question that she had to ask. Her steady voice broke the dead silence of the room.

"Osiris, my master, I seek your guidance in this hour of need. The disturber of the balance is rumoured to have turned up once again. You, who rule justly in the realm of death grant me the sight of the all-seeing eye." She felt the energy build up. It prickled in the air and made her skin tingle. A golden glow spread from the altar and finally engulfed the whole room.

_When she opened her eyes again she found herself in a dark and dang alleyway that was wrapped in grey mist. The street light above her flickered incessantly and gave the whole scenery an eerie vibe. Definitely not the right place for a pick nick. Yet again what was more important, why on earth was she here of all place? There was nobody there. Or at least she thought so._

_The mist that hovered over the whole scenery began to move and started contracting until it vaguely resembled the shape of a human body. It seemed to be in constant motion as if it were alive, all the while forming little swirling patterns. Its outlines became clearer with every second, but obviously it could only attain a certain level of human resemblance. Its facial features as well as its hands refused to materialize completely. They stayed blurry as if looking at them through a grey veil, which made its whole appearance even more spookier.  
_

_Lisa instinctively took a step back, though she knew that she was protected by Osiris's power. Then, despite the fact that the thing had no proper mouth, it started speaking. Its voice sounded like scratching nails on a chalk board – barely above a threatening hiss. It seemed to come from everywhere._

_"There she is again. The girl who condemned me to this existence. I thought you would turn up sooner or later."_

_"I'm not a girl anymore and I'm not frightened either," Lisa screamed, her hoarse voice erupting angrily out of her throat._

_"True. You've grown up a little," the phantom advanced on her, his arms extended to long greyish tentacles that danced in front of her face greedily. She didn't flinch, though it cost her an enormous effort._

_"You still smell deliciously of fear. It engulfs you like an expensive perfume."_

_It circled her. Lisa fought hard to keep her composure. She was painfully aware that she was only clothed in her sleep shirt and was bare footed. It made her feel vulnerable and unprotected._

_"I see you worked your way up. You serve him of all people. He would have had reason enough to rip off your throat for all the mess you made…," the voice paused for a second, relishing the words it was about to utter like full-bodied red wine, "For all the times you worked against him."_

_"I've learned from my mistakes… Unlike you," she crossed her arms over her chest in defiance._

_"No, little girl, it is you, who didn't learn anything at all. You thought you had gotten rid off me. Instead you only helped me to become more powerful."_

_"A talking cloud of mist can hardly be accounted for as something powerful."_

_The thing laughed. It was a dreadful sound. "Still as arrogant as ever, I see. Let me explain it to you. When I was alive I consumed the souls of the living to prolong my own life. Back then you were strong enough to stop me, even kill me, yes…. but now I'm incorporeal. I can go anywhere without you being able to do the slightest thing against it. Once I had my share of souls I'm going to come for yours. It will be like dessert after a long and decadent banquet. The last and the most powerful one, that will finally restore me to a new even more powerful existence."_

_"I will never let this happen!"_

_"Oh, yes little girl, you will! Your chances are rather slim," it whispered in her ear amusedly. "Ask Charlie, your friend, who sacrificed himself not once, but twice for you…His soul tasted so good. Oh, It was so pure!"_

_Lisa's nails digged into the palms of her hands. Hatred was boiling up inside of her, but she denied herself the luxury of letting it surface._

_"I'm going to leave you a good-bye present, so you won't forget our little conversation," the phantom growled at her. Without a warning its grey tentacle lashed out and slung around her throat. Her eyes widened in horror as she gasped for air and desperately tried to pull on it. It wouldn't even budge an inch. The greyish skin of the tentacle started to singe where it touched her and the smell of burned flesh hung in the air. She started feeling dizzy and black dots danced before her eyes._

_"You forgot one thing," the thing laughed out delightedly, "This is a vision. You're bodily shape is only an astral projection. It as unreal as mine and so I'm able to touch you. Lucky for you Osiris is still there to protect you."_

_Behind the phantom the scenery was slowly starting to disintegrate and fade back to comforting reality of Lisa's apartment._

_" Next time your master won't be around to stretch out his hand over you, girl. And then you will be mine!" _the voice shouted at her and its echo still resounded in Lisa's living room, when she was lying on her carpet, greedily sucking air into her lungs.


	8. Bribery

It was the seventh night she had slept in her office. Her back was sore from tossing and turning on the leather sofa that probably wasn't meant to be used as a makeshift bed. Nevertheless it was a small price to pay. Wolfram & Hardt was the only place she was safe at, because it was absolutely ghost-proof. So many employees had died here in the last decade, that this place would be literally cramped with dead people, if it hadn't been under some kind of protection spell. At least this way she would survive until she had figured out a solution to the problem, which would probably take forever.

Until now she hadn't come up with the slightest idea on how to deal with the situation. She had spent what seemed to her an eternity on going through old volumes about necromancy, to which she conveniently had access working for Mr. Wydam-Price…and yet nothing. In her work breaks she scribbled little notes on loose sheets of paper that law around in her office everywhere. The shadows under her eyes had become more flamboyant, so that Lorne had almost done a double-take, when he met her in the corridor last week. It had required shameless lying from her side, to convince him that she had only been researching overtime for an English paper the other night.

Lisa sat down at her working table and stifled a yawn. It was late in the afternoon. A soft knock on the door could be heard. As it went by unanswered, it turned from hesitant to obtrusive in a matter of seconds.

"Go away," she yelled at the closed door.

"Won't," came the short answer. Great, it was him!

"That means especially you, fang-boy," Lisa said in an annoyed tone of voice.

"Too late I'm already in," he closed the door and leant against it casually. He raised his left hand which held a back of Chinese food, waving it at her invitingly , "Interested?"

"I can see through you clumsy attempt of bribery, yet again this smells delicious. You may stay," she took the bag out of his grasp to rummage through its contents, with which she was obviously satisfied, as she was sitting down on her sofa in a matter of seconds to start stuffing food into her mouth greedily. "I'll eat while you try to come up with a decent explanation for your behaviour."

"I haven't seen you around much lately," Spike kicked an empty pizza box out of the way with his foot.

"Probably because you were busy with playing Mr. Macho-Man," she said chewing on one side of her mouth.

He sat down opposite of her with a sigh. She was a though nut to crack, but that he already knew. "No, because you closed yourself up inside your office for an entire week. Gives a fellow something to think about, you know... Is something wrong?"

"No," her answer sounded deceptively like a lie. "Why are you asking?"

That was it. No more Mr. Nice-Guy. "Because the empty pizza boxes start piling on your floor and as sorry as I'm to point it out to you, you don't look so good."

"As I already said. I'm doing fine," her voice sounded aggressive and stubborn.

"Pet...," he skidded to the edge of his seat, "I swear if you don't start talking this second, I'm going to bite you and drain you dry. I'm not joking! I'm truly on the edge of my bloody reason here!"

"Fine. You asked for it here it comes," Lisa slammed the box of food on the table. Noodles flew over its rim executing a daring somersault only to land its the glass surface. She gasped for air, obviously at a loss for words. How do you start telling someone your darkest secret? "This is just ridiculous!" she shook her head vigorously.

"I'm not laughing," he crossed his arms other his chest and lay his combat boots on the table. She eyed his action with a disapproving glance. She hated it when the table got dirty.

"You're asking me to talk to you about things I never told anybody before."

"Look, whatever this is you can't deal with it on your own…"

"I can!" she screamed and jumped to her feet.

"No, you bloody can't!" his voice was a loud roar and almost against his will he vamped out on her. His yellow predatory eyes sparkled at her angrily.

For a second Lisa was petrified. She had never seen him with his game face on. Her previous emotional outburst was suddenly forgotten, when she looked at him in silent bafflement. Being a priestess to Osiris she had come a cross a lot of unusual phenomenon, but she had never seen a vampire…not like this. It was an honour reserved for their victims before they gave them the death kiss.

A certain morbid fascination drew her closer. Lisa stepped around the table and stopped right in front of him. He stuck out his chin looking at her defiantly, still flustered by their argument. She hesitantly reached out to touch the wrinkles on his forehead, as if to reassure herself they were for real. Her fingertips flutter cautiously over his cool skin. It didn't scare her - not the least bit, quite the contrary she somehow felt fascinated by this more animalistic side of him.

It suddenly came to her that what she was doing wasn't the least bit polite. She was staring at him avowedly. Almost forcefully Lisa tore her gaze away from him and walked back to the couch to slump down on it with an exhausted huff. When she looked at him again, his face was back to normal again.

" You can't do this alone. Let me help you," he said imploringly.

"Maybe you're right." She closed her eyes for a second. This was hard. "Just don't interrupt!" she added harshly.

"When…when I was a very small child, I found out I had a special gift. I could see dead people, even talk to them. Once they'd learned I could communicate with them they came to me from everywhere. Some to frighten me and play cruel tricks on me, others to seek my help," she sighed. Her voice grew wistful as she talked about her childhood.

"It was too much for me. My parents dragged me from one psychologist to the next. In the end I learned it was best to shut up and never tell anyone about what I saw, though it sometimes scared me to death. I lied to my parents.

I sought for ways to make it stop, to lead a normal life. I was desperate," she ran her hand through her hair, nervously.

"I searched all libraries and bookstores for something that would help me figure out how to deal with this curse of mine –it always seemed a curse to me. Finally I found an old dusty book about necromancy in an antiquary…" Lisa paused looking at Spike for a reaction.

He looked rather concernedly, "Continue."

"I…I soaked up everything there was to know about it. I felt now was my time to pay back all the wrong that had been done to me. I did a lot of stupid things… young and arrogant as I was. Some only to test my abilities. I raised the dead just to let them loose on an unsuspecting town where they reeked havoc until someone stopped them eventually. I didn't care and I even enjoyed the rush it gave me….

Then I met Charlie. He was a freak like myself. Could make objects fly by the sheer force of his will. We clicked right from the start. Forgot all about magic and the dark arts for a while," inevitably memories of her last meeting with Charlie flashed in her mind. It hurt royally. She forced herself to keep talking - get this over with as fast as possible.

"He warned me, even persuaded me to stop messing with powers greater than myself. He, after all, had a sense of right and wrong.

I didn't…I just couldn't stop. It was like an addiciton. And so one day the inevitable happened. I drew the attention of a mighty necromancer to myself, who went by the name of Baku. I was messing about on his turf and he didn't appreciate it. So he came after me. At first he wanted me to join forces with him. I refused. I didn't trust him," tears were now shining in her eyes. It was so shameful to reveal all this to him.

"So he decided to kill me. One day he ambushed Charlie and me. I survived. Charlie didn't….he sacrificed himself for me. I was so full of hatred, full of wrath…I just couldn't think straight. I felt the power rise in me and I…I kill him…I butchered that evil thing, " Lisa massaged her temples tiredly.

"I couldn't live with what had happened. I hated myself for letting Charlie die, because that's what I did… I let him die."

Spike opened his mouth to protest, but she silenced him with a gesture of her hand.

"Just don't okay? Otherwise I won't be able to say what I have to…

I.. .I…I was searching for something to make the pain go away. I left the States, wandered around aimlessly: I stayed in Europe for a while, travelled the Far East. I could afford it. After all my parents had enough money.

One day I met this old man on a bazaar in Egypt. I like to think it was more than pure chance we met. Somehow I think he found me. He was a follower of Osiris, the god of the underworld. He became my teacher. I learned about the balance of things and how to put my powers to a good use. For the first time in years I felt at ease with myself, because I knew it was the right thing to do," she briefly paused before she continued. "Now he's back."

"Who?" Spike ask, still a little shaken by the enormity of what she had just revealed to him.

"Baku. This' s a little souvenir he left me with," she indicated the thin angry mark that ran around her throat like a necklace. Spike growled furiously.

"Didn't you just tell me you killed that wanker?"

"Yeah, I did. He has come back from the dead to get his revenge, but that's not the worst part of it…. He eats souls and he's coming for mine, because then his little plan of turning himself into a god will finally be complete," desperation was clearly audible in her voice. She looked miserable…as if she was about to cry.

"I don't know what to do, Spike….I just can't…he…he took Charlie," tears were now streaming down her face.

He rushed over to her to take her in his arms. Lisa buried her head in his shoulders and sobbed uncontrollably. He was here safe haven. In some ways it felt absolutely right, but a part of her still wanted to hide in a dark hole and never come out. All those feelings she had buried deep down inside of her seemed to come out at once.

"I'm sorry for telling you. I feel so ashamed…I shouldn't have…," her fingers duck into his back searching for something to hold on to.

"It's alright," Spike drew her even closer in a tender gesture she hadn't though him capable of. His hands stroke her head calmingly.

"There's no need to be ashamed of anything, pet. Back in the day it did things I'm not so proud of myself either."

"Did you kill your best friend?" she let out an ironic snort.

"I turned my mum into a vampire and staked her afterwards…if you have to know," his voice sounded low and vulnerable

"Oh," Lisa sniffled and looked at him blinkingly with red eyes. She paused for a moment not knowing what to say. "This might be the wrong time to tell you, but I'm really sorry for being such a bitch the other night."

Her apology took him by surprise, "I'm sorry for running off like that, I was acting like a complete idiot myself," Spike admitted softly, but inevitably his thoughts returned to the situation at hand. His temper flared once again when he realized that he had been unable to protect her from the necromancer's attack. She could well be dead now

"So what do we do now about this evil sod? I'd really like to kick his incorporeal ass," Spike growled..

"We!" Lisa quickly disentangled herself from him. "**We** won't do anything. You will not get involved in this, do I make myself clear?" she punctuated every word with an angry finger poking into his chest.

" Bollocks! Why the hell not?" he caught her hand in midair.

"Because I couldn't bare it if something happened to you. That's why!" she screamed at him and then her eyes turned round like saucers when the realization of what she had just admitted hit home. Lisa covered her face with her hands embarrassedly. "Tell me I didn't just say that one out loud…"

"Oh, yes you did.…," Spike answered amusedly. "Now, Look at me!" he demanded gently.

"No."

He gave her a slight nudge on the shoulder with his hand. She huffed in exasperation, but hesitantly obeyed his command.

"We are going to ride this one out together? Understood?" he looked her deeply in the eye. His blue eyes had something hypnotic to them.

"Yes?" it was more a question than an answer.

"You don' t get it do you?" he cocked his head, peering at her critically.

"What on earth am I supposed to get!" Lisa looked at him questioningly, gesturing wildly with her hands.

"That I actually care for you."

"Yet the more reason not to allow you helping me," she said, feeling how his words started melting down her resistance.

"You won't get rid off me, pet," Spike stated firmly.

"Whatever," she waved her hand indifferently.

"You're an excellent liar…I hope you know that, " he grinned at her. He scooted closer to her until their faces were so close their noses almost touched.

"What's that supposed to be, Spike?" Lisa asked breathlessly, her heart racing uncontrollably inside her chest, because of his sudden proximity.

"An experiment," he raised his chin challengingly. "Just be quite for a second and look at me, okay?"

"That's crab," she said stubbornly, her eyes fixed on a point on the wall somewhere behind him.

"Bleeding hell, woman! Is this to much to ask for!"

"Fine, if that is what you want," she glared at him defiance. What would staring into his face be any use for?

She glowered at him, but within a matter a seconds her gaze began to soften. It fell on the scar that crossed his left eyebrow, flitted over the dimple on his chin, his high cheek bones and finally settled on his blue eyes. He let her look at him…really look at him without pretending to be someone else. His eyes interlocked with hers. They were lively, expressive and observing her curiously. It seemed hard to imagine that they had seen the passing of so many decades.

Lisa felt the closeness between them she had denied for so long, which was not only bodily, but also one of mind… Suddenly she was curious about how his lips would feel against hers and whether it would make her desire for him disappear, free her from spell he had cast on her. The closer she got to him the more the feeling increased in intensity. Lisa felt confused. Her skin prickled as if charged with electricity when her lips gingerly touched his for a fleeting moment. She abruptly pulled back as if shocked by her one audacity.

Lisa hesitantly looked at him searching his face for any signs of disapproval. There was only a naughty boyish smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"Point proven. We're in this together," Spike smiled at her contently.

"Just because I kissed you?" Lisa asked incredulously.

Spike sighed exasperatedly. This woman was more stubborn than a donkey when it came to acknowledging her own feelings. Taking a wild guess he assumed that meant he had to lay it in on her with the subtlety of a sledge-hammer.

"Pet, don't tell me your lips accidentally landed on mine… because if this happens once, you might well call it an accident, twice means it is quickly becoming a habit…. You don't seem like the flirtatious type, to be honest. Can't blame me for being a little bit curious. Exactly how many blokes did you kiss in the last couple of weeks?"

By the looks of it he really expected her to answer that. She knew she wouldn't get out of this until she had done so. Lisa hesitated. "Make that a couple of years," she mumbled ashamedly.

"So I like to think that I'm not over-interpreting anything, which I'm obviously not…. which leads me to the not very farfetched conclusion that you actually have feelings for me," his fingers traced disturbingly pleasant little patterns on the palm of her hand.

A brief pause ensued. "Do you, too?" her voice sounded unusually fragile.

His lips curved into an amused smile, "Yes, I thought you had figured it out by now. "

"I'm sorry, sometimes I tend to be a little dense," a genuine smile started spreading on her face - a seldom glimpse at what lay beneath her protective shell. He couldn't help but thinking she looked simply irresistible when she smiled. It was really shame she did it so rarely. Lisa suddenly seemed more at ease with the situation and a lot more secure of herself.

"You said something about developing a habit…," Lisa looked at him in mock-innocence.

"Yes, that I did," Spike answered in a low and seductive voice, his accent suddenly more prominent. His gaze wandered over her face hungrily and finally settled on her lips…red, soft, delicious. He remembered the taste of her, the smell of her. He needed more of it, much more. The distance between them diminished quickly without any of them knowing or caring who was the first to make a move. They finally kissed. There was no more hesitance this time, no more embarrassed shyness. Their tongues touched teasingly. Her lips felt hot against his. He could hear the fast rhythmic beat of her heart drumming in his ears. So many different sensation pleasant washed over him at once, that he almost felt overwhelmed.


	9. Trust issues

The golden light of the lamp reflected on the glasses of her spectacles. Her voice was steady and calm, as if unfazed by what she read out to him, though it concerned her personally. It even was a matter of life and death to her.

"A necromancer who consumes the souls of the living does so to unnaturally prolong his own life and become more powerful. After his death - should he be able prevent his essence from passing over to the realm of the dead - he can become corporeal again and restore himself to a more powerful existence. And there comes the hitch…," she briefly looked up at him. He had stopped pacing like a caged panther and listened attentively.

"He has to find seven souls: the child, the young men, the lovers, the martyr, the old woman, the sinner and the high priestess. I'm guessing that would be me, " Lisa took off her glasses to massage the bridge of her nose tiredly.

"And Charlie was the martyr," Spike concluded.

"Yes," she answered darkly. Her neck hurt from sitting bent over a book for hours. Lisa stood up from her chair to walk around the desk and lean against its edge casually, her arms crossed over her chest. Her black hair was tighed back in a strict bun.

Her outward appearance suggested that she was calm and under control, but inside of her raged a battle of conflicting emotions: fear, happiness, worry, sadness…every shade of the palette.

"I suppose I'm the only one left….We have to work out something," she briefly paused, to mentally brace herself for the discussion her next words would surely provoke,"I've already had some ideas, though you probably won't like any of them. Just don't forget we at least have to consider all options."

He gestured her wordlessly to continue.

"Once a soul passes over to the realm of the dead it is very difficult to bring it back. He doesn't have the capabilities to perform the spell. Very few people do."

"How could he get Charlie then?"

"A long time ago Charlie promised to always watch out for me. He still had unfinished business to do, so he stuck around," melancholy shone in her eyes. Lisa shook her head as if to rid herself from those dismal thoughts that threatened to resurface again. This was neither the place nor the time for them. "Anyways…if my soul was out of his reach..."

"Bugger! You'd better not implied what I think you just did…," barely suppressed anger let his voice rise. "Suicide!"

"No, murder. If I killed myself my soul would be stuck between two plains of existence," Lisa explained matter-of-factly. If everything else failed they would well have to make their peace with this solution. She was at least desperate enough to consider it an option.

"Rubbish," Spike started pacing again, shooting daggers at her with his eyes. "Absolutely unacceptable. You better had something else in store that didn't involve your death…"

"Then you won't like the idea of turning me into a vampire either," her fingers were drumming a nervous beat on the desktop.

"Not the least bit," Spike snarled ill-humouredly.

"There might be another way…," she frowned pensively. "If I were able to create an astral projection of myself, I would be able to fight him, but it would still be very risky. I'm not a warrior. The only weapon I can wield is a can of pepper spray, which, let's face it, is not very helpful against a necromancer on a power rush. And the spell would weaken me too much to use magic against him."

"Better, but it will still be like fighting windmills. I'm not at least happy to have to propose this, but how about we asked Peaches for help?" Spike looked as if he was about to choke on his own words.

* * *

Angel was sitting behind the conference table looking at them pensively, while he was busy processing the huge amount of information, just revealed to him. 

Lisa and Spike were sitting opposite of him. She had stopped talking only moments ago. Her own words kept resounding in her head over and over again. Lisa's eyes landed on the untouched glass of water in front of her. As she grabbed it, its surface got into wavy motion, threatening to spill. Lisa put it down again in defeat. She felt Spike's eyes on her and briefly turned her head to flash him a weak smile. He winked at her reassuringly, then reached for her hand to give it a brief, but affectionate squeeze.

"Just out of curiosity. What will happen if Baku is able to complete his plan?" Angel asked, leaning forward, while he rested his folded hands on the surface of the table.

"He would become godlike. Not only would he have his old powers back, which means absolute control over anything dead, undead and ghost-like, but also the power over life and death. I think you can easily deduce what I'm trying to imply here," Lisa answered mirroring his posture.

"Evil necromancer equals apocalypse. I get your drift."

"So, Peaches, are you going to help us or what?" Spike interjected impatiently.

"Us," the other vampire let out an ironic laugh, "So she's your girlfriend…I should probably be glad then. Not that you ever were any competition…," whatever Angel was implying was lost to Lisa, but Spike did clearly get it. She could see his chipped black nails digging in the arms of his chair, yet he wisely refrained from answering anything, for which she was very grateful. Knowing the two of them they would be happily beating each other to bloody bulbs at the slightest provocation.

Angel briefly hesitated before he continued, "I'm going to help you, Lisa," he gave her a friendly smile that lacked any falsity, "You obviously already have enough to deal with," he quickly shot Spike a pointed glance. "What do you need?"

She cleared her throat insecurely, "The problem is the bit with the astral projection. I can't do it on my own or else it will leave me much too weakened to fight Baku."

"I think Lorne would be able to give you a hand with that. Anything else?"

"I'll need full excess to all books on necromancy as well as magic supplies in order to prepare adequately… And there's something else. I can't go back to my place, it's not save anymore…"

"You can stay here at Wolfram&Harts.…Oh, by the way, should I have Wesley assist you with your research?"

"I hardly think he has any experience with practising necromancy… no offence, sir. It's not that I doubt his capabilities, but single mistake can easily kill you or cost you 20 years of your life. I've been doing this for years. Better let me handle this alone. "

Angel looked at her with a concerned frown, his hand stroke his chin pensively. "Then the only question left to answer is: Can we trust you?"

Spike growled, angrily pushing his armchair back so it rammed into the wall behind him, as he shot to his feet.

Angel continued unflinchingly, "You have to understand my concern. After all you could have dished us a big bunch of bull and we wouldn't even know. All the while you'd comfortably have full excess to those spell books…It just smells off back-stabbing."

"Oh, suddenly so suspicious? She's asking for you help, you big old poof! Didn't you boast with helping the helpless or something?" Spike shot at him, barely keeping his temper in check.

"Look," Lisa voice strangely sounded absolutely calm, as if unfazed by the whole commotion around her, "Lorne read me when I started working here…He said I'm not evil. In addition to that…why should I have started an exorcize-a-ton on your command, if I wasn't trustworthy?"

"Alright, I see your point…., but I like to be informed about every step you taking. I'm sure you won't be offended, if we'll conduct our own research to verify your version of the story," Angel leaned back in his chair, folding his hands over his chest.

"Not at all, sir."


	10. Up, close and personal

Lisa sat bent over an old volume, its parchment yellowed by age. The scrawly eccentric handwriting that filled an endless amount of pages, had an indefinable brownish red colour like dried blood. On a second thought – it probably was dried blood. Necromancer weren't known for being particularly squeamish, when it came to using blood as a substitute for ink. The brief thought inspired a momentary frown which quickly dissipated as she continued reading.

The letters were starting to swim in front of her eyes. It was becoming increasingly difficult to concentrate. It would probably be best, if she called it a day. Lisa shut the book with a decisive bang and stood up to stretch her legs. The quite solitude of the archive was beginning to depress her and yet again she felt safe here. The day of the ceremony was getting closer and she was slowly getting nervous.

The echo of her heels on the stone floor resounded in the vast room that was stuffed with endless rows of shelves holding the most dangerous lecture Wolfram & Hardt had to offer. Lisa finally stopped in front of a certain bookshelf to unlock the cage that covered its front side. When she its doors pulled open, a draft of cool air combined with the smell of old parchment swept over her. Her eyes narrowed in concentration when she gingerly reached out her hand to put the book back into place. It was like feeding raw meat to a hungry tiger. The books started hissing like snakes apparently stirred from their sleeps. Terror lurked between those age-worn pages – shapeless, greedy and dangerous. She quickly put the book back into place and closed the doors behind it with meticulous care.

Her thoughts drifted back to the last couple of days as she marched through the office building towards her apartment. Since their talk with Angel she had virtually locked herself up inside the basement, studying those books, she knew her life depended on. Lisa's concentration, however, was depleted whenever she allowed her mind to wander. Strangely she always ended up thinking about him…Spike.

Lisa couldn't quite figure him out, though in some ways they were very similar. The bad guy persona, that was his trademark, sometimes seemed to her like some sort of distraction, designed to mislead others about his true character. Like everything well hidden, it would sometimes resurface, but only very briefly. He was quick-tempered and freely displayed the emotions that were conducive to keeping up his charade, though she suspected he kept his more sensitive side to himself. The part of him that made him vulnerable. The part of him that she had been able to catch a fleeting glimpse of…

They had rarely seen each other in the last couple of days. It was not because he had been avoiding her, quite the contrary, but because she had always sent him away. Spike had obeyed begrudgingly, assuming that it was because she needed quiet in order to go through the huge pile of books, that lay waiting on her working desk.

He had been wrong. Thinking about him was completely unnerving to her and that's why she needed him to stay away right now….Thinking about him made her ask herself what was underneath the mask she wore everyday. Lisa often denied herself the luxury of letting her emotions show. This way all they were, was a shadowy echo suppressed by a much too rational mind that was constantly on guard. No disturbances, only predictable calmness that was unsoiled by any emotions upheavals.

It had not always been like this. Before "her gift" had turned her life into hell on earth, she had been a completely different person. As a child she had even had a certain propensity for being theatrical. Whenever she had fallen she had cried loudly and unashamedly, when she was happy her laughter had filled the room. Now those long lost emotions were resurfacing and it was all his fault. It was all his fault, because thinking about him made her realize that she was falling in love with him.

Lisa sighed loudly and as she looked around, she became aware of the fact that she had reached her destination. She was standing outside her apartment. Lisa started fumbling for the magnetic card inside her pockets and prepared herself for the ritual that would shortly ensue. She would slide the card through the reader repeatedly whose lights would, with a certain sadistic predictability, always flash red, until she was very close to loosing her mind. Only then the door would open. She was already grinding her teeth in frustration when she finally held the card in her hand.

The first try…red. The second try…red. The third try…and so on and so on. The movement of her hand had become almost mechanical by now. Red. Red. Red. How very charming!

"Let me," a distinctly familiar male voice suddenly volunteered from beside her. Shortly after an outstretched hand entered her range of vision that was limited obsessively to the area of the blinking light of the card reader. He rubbed the card against the fabric of his shirt before he slid it through the machine in one fluid motion.

This was treachery! The door had opened at his first try. Lisa didn't know whether she was angry, because he had succeeded so easily or because he was already starting to confuse her again. As she stormed past him without a word of thanks, the familiar scent of cigarettes, leather and cologne invaded her nostrils and threatened to make her think girlish thoughts…again.

With a frustrated huff she let herself slump on the huge bed that was situated in the centre of her apartment which was something like a loft - slightly snobbish, light-flooded (of course, equipped with the kind of windows that were vampire friendly) and obtrusively Spartan.

Lisa could hear the door being closed and shortly after she felt Spike lay down besides her.

She looked over at him questioningly. Their eyes met briefly and as usual she felt the familiar tingle in the pit of her stomach – luckily, she somehow managed to ignore it.

"So…how's the mojo getting along?" Spike asked conversationally. He lay there with one arm under his head, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, while the other hand was dangling laxly from the edge of the bed. Lisa could have kissed him senseless right on the spot just for lying there like this. She unconsciously licked her lips, but then quickly averted her gaze, when she became aware of the fact that she was rapidly starting to lose her composure.

"Better. I've been making some progress," Lisa answered shortly. A rather lengthy pause ensued.

"Can I ask you a question?" she said after a while, her voice lacking its usual businesslike undertone.

"Sure, love. Go ahead!"

"What kind of person were you….back then…before you were turned a vampire?" she suddenly asked out of the blue, watching him expectantly.

Spike turned his head to look at her in surprise, his eyes fixing her intently. A pensive frown wrinkled his forehead. "A young, naïve sod."

"Very vague," Lisa replied ruefully, "Care to elaborate?"

"Why? Is it important to you, love?" he squinted his eyes at her.

"Yes," Lisa admitted softly

"Okay," Spike sighed, "Guess it's only fair……Welcome to 'A hundred ways of humiliating yourself in front of a girl you care for. How it's properly done' introductory course."

"Less sarcasm. More facts, " Lisa interjected, looking at him curiously, her head propped up on a hand.

"Alright then," Spike still didn't look too pleased by the prospect of spreading out the tale of his entire miserable mortal existence in front of her, but he begrudgingly obeyed.

"I won't bore you with a history lesson…Time? Late 19th century. I've was living in London with my Mum.…Dad was a bastard. Did his share of drinking and wasting our money, just as a well-respected gentleman was supposed to back in the day. Never was around much, so we didn't miss him, when he passed away in his early 40s and left us a pile of bills to pay. Me, I was about 10 around then. A sad little pale brat with curly brown hair.

Don't remember much about father, except he used to smoke those cigarettes that always made me cough," Spike paused, apparently organizing the unfiltered mass of memories that was resurfacing from his subconscious.

It was like talking about someone else's life. He had emotionally distanced himself a long time ago from most of the things that concerned his childhood or had something to do with his father.

"Anyways, " Spike finally continued, "they named me after my late grandfather…William….was a decent old fellow. Build up the fortune my Dad spent so shamelessly….

After my old man died, there was only me and mother…. I did my best to be a good lad, tried not to cause her any grief…Yep, you're looking at the posture boy for a good and proper Oedipal complex….," Spike shook his head as if to rid himself of some unwanted thoughts, that were threatening to rise from his memory.

"Well, were was I? Right…Mother wanted me to have a decent education, so she put what little money was left of our family fortune into books and schooling," his pronunciation started shifting involuntarily - the traces of Cockney briefly replaced by an upper class accent.

"She even worked as a needlewoman to make ends meet. After I had finished school, I felt obliged to make up for all those years of hardship. So, I went to work everyday like the good little trooper I was. Sure, it made her happy and I should have been, too…except I wasn't. I was bored by the everyday routine of my job.

I read the great poets – Blake, Swinburne, Wilde, Keats. Their words nourished me like honey the bee. I felt inspired to become a writer myself, to express what I slumbered inside of me and was to powerful to go by unheard. I was aspiring for something more, something bigger…"

"Don't we all?" Lisa said softly. Somehow she could relate all too well to his tale.

"Most people don't screw up as royally as I did...as I said I wanted to be a writer...a poet even. And, of course, like every poet I needed a muse. I fell in love with a snobbish dame who went by the name of Cecily."

"A terrible name," she interjected.

"You hardly won't find anything that rhymes with it, too. Trust me. I should know, I wrote her thousands of godawful love poems, full of flattering words and exaggerated allegory."

"What was so special about her?"

"She was unattainable. Her, being an upper class lady and me, being a poor middle class sod – we had no future whatsoever. Of course, that didn't stop me…as usual," he let out a humourless laugh, shaking his head with the notion of someone who could now look at his past actions from a more mature and distanced perspective.

"Infatuation quickly turned into obsession. I thought if I wrote one perfect poem, one that would really touch her, she would reciprocate my feelings. I spent countless nights working on my masterpiece, searching for the right words incessantly. One evening it was finally done. I read it out to her…. bared my soul to her."

"What happened?" Lisa asked curiously.

"It was no use. Cecily didn't understand what I tried to tell her. All she did was wrinkle her nose at me, disgusted by the thought of how I, the bourgeois, could dare to woo her, the young beautiful socialite. So I stormed off ashamedly to hid in a dang back alley where I started crying like a little girl. That's how Dru found me.. That's it. That's about all there is to tell…," Spike abruptly concluded, seemingly embarrassed by what he had just told her. He crossed his arms over his chest defensively, looking at her as if he wanted to say 'You've asked for it'.

A few seconds passed in awkward silence.

"I think I would have liked him," Lisa admitted softly after a while.

Her confession took him by surprise and for the first time since she knew him, Spike was at a loss of words. "Who?" he managed to get out in the end.

"William."

"Why?" he asked, suddenly very curious.

"Are you asking seriously?"

"Yes, I'd really like to know," Spike turned towards her, mirroring her posture from before, so that they were now directly facing each other.

Her heart started racing inside of her chest nervously, as she was searching for the right words to give a voice to her thoughts. "I think you can learn a lot just by reading them…just by reading those words of those famous writers…," she paused. The pensive frown on her forehead indicated that this was hard for her. He decided to listen patiently, though what she had said wasn't exactly an answer to his question.

"You can lose yourself in those thoughts, feelings and experiences that fill countless pages - entire books. And sometimes there is this one sentence that will strike you. And then you will read it over and over again until you have memorized every word, because it expresses so perfectly how you feel...every colour of this vast palette of emotions – love, pain, sadness, hate… That's the beauty of it… And that's why it's art, because it doesn't work like this in normal everyday life…"

"Just out of curiosity…How does it really work then?" he asked not without a certain hint of irony.

"Oh, come on! When you meet someone in the street and he asks you how you're feeling, do you seriously think he's interested in how you actually feel? It's just a flowery phrase without any meaning. When you're down and out, there will be no one there to help you. The big machinery has to run smoothly without a glitch. Either you adapt or you won't survive," Lisa frowned in discontent, this was not at all what she had wanted to say. Somehow the words had left her mouth almost without her doing.

"Love…no matter what you do, you will still be the same person. Take that from someone who learned to hard way. You might be able to better yourself, but the essence of your personality will always stay the same," Spike had the strange, but undeniable feeling that he was starting to actually figure her out.

Lisa, on the other hand, felt cornered. The situation had left her control. Her temper flared uncontrollably. "You don't know the least thing about me," she hissed at him.

"I like to think that I know you very well," he fixed her with his eyes severely as if to reprove her for her words.

"So go ahead Mr. Know-it-all tell me…"

"Fine," he paused shortly, "See, I figure it's like that…we're all born a little red faced, screaming worm – next stop childhood. Everything's fine, no need for pretence. We are who we are. All hugs and kisses till then. All those brats come in different varieties - the little angel, the sensitive mopy ones, the little bastards, the drama queen and so on and so on. Get my drift?"

"I do, but it would be nice if you could get to the point in the not so distance future…if there actually is any…," Lisa grumbled ill-humoredly.

Spike seemed unfazed by her comment. "I reckon you were the drama queen. Always good for an emotional outburst of some sort. One a good day you would laugh till your belly ached and on a bad day you would throw your dolls through your room because you were angry like hell. So does the shoe fit, Cinderella?" he grinned at her triumphantly.

Lisa gulped. His characterisation was indeed very accurate. "Yes….How did you know?" she asked hesitantly.

"Have been no different myself. Except I obviously didn't play with dolls. I wasn't that much of a cissy," he let out a humourless snort.

"Oh," was all she managed to get out.

"Being like that, you have but two choices when you grow up and things don't run smoothly. After being hurt once too often you might ask yourself: 'Why the bleeding hell am I torturing myself? Why don't I put an end to this?' So you decide to not feel anything anymore. Clever, but won't make you happy.

Another person on the other hand might say 'Bugger you lot! I am what I am and if you don't like it, screw you !' Not too clever…but effective. Will this make you happy? Guess not. Either way intensity is not something everyone gets along with."

"I think there's nothing wrong with the way you are," Lisa admitted timidly.

"Why's that so?"

"Why?" she looked pensive. "I guess because it helps me come out of my shell. I do need a little nudge in the right direction from time to time"

"The right direction…kind of vague."

Lisa sighed. "I've come to realize something in the last days. I've been meaning to tell you about it for a while, but I don't know how to say it…. I'm afraid it might sound ridiculous."

"You're afraid it might sound ridiculous?" Spike smirked. "I've just bloody told you how I sat in a back alley sobbing my heart out, because some bint didn't like my poetry…"

"But what if you don't like what you'll hear…"

"What if I really do like what I'll hear?"

"Alright….," It was kind of funny how the act of uttering a few words could sometimes become so hard. She summoned all her courage. "I've been thinking a lot about you in the last couple of days. I realize I'm not the easiest person…not even remotely close to easy. It maybe hard to put up with me sometimes and I don't know if you want to on a regular basis. Plus there is my not so glamorous past and… well… the thing with Baku...A death threat probably puts a huge damper to my attractiveness, I guess, " she sighed. Her own stammering was driving her insane. It would be better if you laid the cards on the table now. She took one deep breath. It felt like plunging into cold water. "Well, what I'm trying to say is…..I love you."

Lisa observed his facial expression curiously, waiting for the sentence to be spoken. He smiled at her. She could help but feel relieved. It meant she hadn't screwed up completely. She was still worriedly contemplating all the different possible versions of his answer, when he gently but determinedly drew her close to kiss her.

"I love you," he whispered to her, after their lips had finally separated. "And I thought the bit with the stuttering was very cute," Spike added with a chuckle.

"The demon that possessed you must have been the devil himself," she answered laughingly, pinching his arm.

"Can you show him at least a little sympathy?" he asked teasingly, tilting his head in the familiar fashion, which simply made him irresistible.

"Maybe," she answered enigmatically and kissed him again.

His lips on hers were almost driving her insane. She couldn't remember ever having been kissed like this. It made any Hollywood kissing scene at the end of a romance movie pale in comparison. She wanted more of him and he obviously felt the same, as he drew her closer hungrily. Lisa could feel his body pressing against hers and all sorts of nasty thoughts invaded her head. She fully enjoyed the pleasurable sensations that washed over her uncontrollably. Then it suddenly stopped…Lisa blinkingly looked at him in disorientation.

"Am I moving too fast?" Spike asked concernedly and at first she didn't comprehend what he was saying.

"No, not at all," her voice sounded husky, when she finally answered. A wicked smile flitted over her face, when a rather appealing and equally naughty idea crossed her mind. Lisa felt Spike's curious eyes on her, as she settled on his lap and let her hand glide up his arms to peel him out of his duster. "Let's get rid off this."

"You're not as innocent as you seem to be," he noticed with a dangerous sparkle in his eye.

"Whoever said something about innocent?" Lisa raised a delicate eyebrow at him, "I was just a little bit…reserved…which I'm not any more…at least not around you," she kissed his neck teasingly, softly grazing it with her teeth. Her lips wandered over his skin alternated by her tongue. He smelled so delicious, that all she wanted to do right now was eat him alive. Lisa wondered how far she could go until he would lose control. The smug smile that spread on her face, quickly turned into an expression of surprise, when he flipped her on her back and effectively pinned her down with his weight.

Her breathing accelerated. The feeling of him lying atop of her was very stimulating, to say the least. His fingers were tracing seductive little patterns on the thin lacy fabric of her blouse, as they slowly, but determinedly, wandered into the direction of its top button. He covered every inch of creamy white skin that was revealed with tiny kisses and progressed downwards until finally the blouse was gone and she lay there with just her bra on.

Cool lips kissed the sensitive area around her bellybutton. She moaned softly as his tongue playfully touched her skin. It only served him as an encouragement to continue his caress. It felt marvellous, breath-taking and most importantly it left her with a strong and undeniable craving for more. She drew him closer, greedy for a kiss. Her lips welcomed his with insatiable fever.

Finally her hands impatiently tugged at the hem of his shirt. He wordlessly smiled at her and pulled it over his head with one swift motion, his lean muscular body flexing in the progress. His skin was very pale, but miraculously unmarred by any battle scars. Lisa sat up and let her hands glide over his chest in a featherlike, tender caress. He closed his eyes, enjoying the pleasant feeling of her touch; the look on his face, calm and relaxed.

She was so close he could feel the warmth radiate from her body, hear the fast beating of her heart and inhale the intoxicating smell of her arousal like that of a deep red flower in bloom. Her hot, wet lips made contact with the sensitive skin over his collar bone, unaware of the fact that he was dangerously close to losing control.

He fervently requited the favour by softly kissing her shoulders, aptly moving the straps of her bra out of the way in the process. Then, with an expert movement of his fingers, he opened its clasp and quickly discarded of the redundant piece of garment.

The feeling of his skin against her was simply superb, but only a little foretaste of what was still to come. A pleasant shiver ran through Lisa's body.

"Lean back," he whispered in her ear, his voice heavy with longing.

She readily agreed, all the while holding eye contact with him. She didn't feel ashamed – it felt right, natural.

His fingers fluttered over her skin in a featherlike touch, teasingly tracing a line from her chin all the way down to her bellybutton. Then - suddenly his lips on her breasts, softly kissing and caressing them. Lisa let out a loud moan, as his tongue played around her nipple. She wanted him so badly. This was torture, disguised in the clothes of a breathtaking caress. Her fingers searched for something to hold on to and started kneading through his hair. When she was almost overwhelmed by passion, a suddenly loss of contact caught her by surprise, which was shortly after followed the reconciliatory feeling of his lips on hers.

"Too much clothes," she whispered breathlessly in between kisses.

"I thought so, too," he said, already bussing himself with getting rid off her pants, while she was fumbling with his belt. They finally succeeded and continued kissing again. She felt his hardness provocatively press against her, only too aware of the fact that they were both only clothed in their underwear. Her instincts took over. All she wanted was to feel him, have all of him – finally. Her hips slowly grinded against his, eagerly anticipating what was to follow, while her hands slide down his back. They hesitantly stopped at the waistband of his boxers, before she slowly started pulling it down.

Spike had gotten her hint and stood up to quickly undress, his back turned to her. Her heart started racing a little bit faster. He turned around, now completely naked, his body bathed in the warm light of the late afternoon sun. He was a beautiful side to behold like one of those Grecian statues – slender and well-proportioned, in every aspect.

He climbed on the bed, slowly advancing on her on all fours. A shiver ran through her body. The closer he got the more her heart started racing inside her chest in pleasant anticipation. He placed a kiss on her belly, then wandered a little lower – between his lips and her skin only the thin fabric of the panties. She could exactly feel his caress and it drove her crazy. Finally he slowly stripped her of her panties, his fingers gliding along her legs in a soft caress.

As he bent down to kiss her, his body covered hers entirely. The passionate mating dance of their tongues paralleled the merging of their bodies. When he slowly slid into her, she lost all ability to think straight. What was left was a potent mixture of sensory perceptions and emotions: love, pure lust, feeling, seeing, tasting…They started moving in unison. At first slowly, then more ardently. There was this warm, incredible pleasant feeling – at first miniscule like being tickled on the toe by a feather, then it's intensity rapidly increased. It washed over her in several mighty waves of pure unfiltered ecstasy. Her fingernails dug into his back. Uncountable different sensations flooded her consciousness at once: the quickened pace of his trusts, the pleasant spasm of her muscles, his moan against her ear, the steady rhythm of her breathing, their fingers entwining tightly…


	11. Before the storm

"Damn it, Spike! You won't be coming with me, period," Lisa yelled at him over her shoulder as she stormed down the corridor. Several people had stopped to overlook the arguing couple's fight. Great, now they had an audience!

The young woman lowered her head embarrassedly and quickly descended the stairs that let down to the lobby. Momentarily her major objective was to get out of this situation as fast as possible.

"Would you please stop running and talk to me, woman?" Spike called at her from the top of the stairs. "Sooner or later I'll get you anyways," he added for good measure.

"You think so?" Lisa quipped back, coolly walking towards the elevator.

Next thing she heard was a growl, followed by the sound of a pair of booted feet landing on the marble floor behind her. He had simply jumped over hand rail. She started pressing the elevator button repeatedly. It was her last chance. He calmly sauntered up to her.

"What are you doing, pet?" Spike asked patiently.

"Use your enhanced vampire eye balls. It's quite obvious," Lisa hissed at him. Just then the elevator arrived and she stepped inside, as did he. She rolled her eyes in annoyance and pressed the button for ground floor. The elevator had just set into motion, when Spike's fist slammed down on the emergency stop button.

"Now, what's that supposed to be?"

"A conversation if you don't mind."

"The presupposition for a conversation are two people willing to talk. Since you're the only one that's up for, it it'll sadly be a monologue."

"Fine, I'll talk you'll listen. I'm going with you and that's **my** last word in this. That wanker needs a good and proper beating and from what I understood I'll be able to administer it on the astral plain. Plus, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I'd let you have all the fun alone," he looked at her in resolve.

"Spike…I can't let you do this. It's too dangerous," she looked at him pleadingly, but he wouldn't have any of it.

"Love, don't let me just stand there waiting helplessly, while you perform the ritual and get yourself into all sorts of trouble. I'm a go-getter, I can't stand by idly while your in mortal danger," he took her hands in his, looking at her with puppy dog eyes.

"And I won't drag you into this. It's not your fight."

"If this isn't my fight, what is, ducks?"

* * *

It was late at night. The darkness outside had turned from a deep shade of black to more a bluish tone, that announced that soon the morning was to come. Lisa couldn't sleep. Too many disquieting thoughts were running through her head. She look at him as he lay there in peaceful slumber and couldn't help, but smile. He had a certain innocent air about him with his tossled hair and the content expression on his face. 

She carefully disentangled herself from his embrace, not to wake him, which proved to be kind of difficult with his arm draped over her body possessively. After several tries she finally managed to. He only stirred briefly, but then went back to sleep.

Her feet soundlessly padded over the carpet. Lisa had reached her destination and quickly slipped into the bathroom. She turned on the shower and let the water run for a while before she stepped underneath it. The sound of the water dripping down on the tiles was kind of soothing, as was its pleasant warmth on her skin. When she stepped out of the shower watery mist filled the room, that condensed on the mirror above the washbasin. She stepped up to the basin, as if drawn to it by a magic spell. Her reflection was only a blurry greyish outline masked by a veil of drops. Her hands closed around the cool porcelain of the basin for support.

What had she done! What was she thinking? She had dragged him into this out of selfish reasons. It was true: she loved him, but the fact alone should have been reason enough to keep him out of this. There was a huge possibility she was going to die…who was she kidding – it was almost a certainty. As he wouldn't let her fight Baku alone, his fate would be sealed, too.

Lisa wiped over the mirror with her hand. Her pale face starred back at her accusatorily. The vision of Charlie's death resurfaced from her memory again. The place was still the same: the sewers – cold, wet, smelly. Only this time it wasn't Charlie who lay there dying, but Spike. Tears shimmered in her eyes and the bone chilling feeling of terror rose inside of her.

"No," Lisa said loudly to her reflection. Her fist slammed down on the rim of the basin. No, she wouldn't let this happen. It was true – he had a destiny. A destiny that was probably bigger than protecting his girlfriend from some evil necromancer. For his love, his willingness to give his life for her, she owed him the same in return.

With grim determination she grabbed her bath robe, put it on and silently snug through the apartment towards the door.

* * *

The much dreaded day of the ritual had finally arrived. Lisa had been wishing so many times it wouldn't. She had hoped against hope that time could pass a little bit slower, but deep down she knew that inevitably she would sooner or later end up here. Her hand hesitantly lay on the door knob. She was dressed in a simple white ceremonial gown; no frilly patterns, just plain linen. It was not very flattering, in fact it made her look even paler, but she wasn't going to saunter down the catwalk. Nevertheless she had accessorized adequately. She carried a small leather bag with her that contained some magical supplies required for the ceremony. 

"You are really sure, you want to do this?" Spike asked her concernedly.

"As I ever will be," she said resignedly before she turned the doorknob and entered.

There were two stone altars situated in the middle of the otherwise unfurnished room. Lisa briefly wondered how they had been transported here. Each of them probably weighted a ton. Candles burned everywhere and the heavy smell of sandalwood and opium lay in the air. She nodded contently. Everything had been prepared according to her instructions.

Lorne stood there with his back turned to them, lightening the last candle. He looked slightly out of place with his turquoise suite and the yellow shirt underneath. Somehow the combination hurt her eyes.

He finally turned around to greet them, then fell silent again. The expression on the green demon's face was unusually grave. Lisa briefly squeezed his hand reassuringly as if to say 'it'll all turn out okay', then let go of it, to focus her attention on the task at hand.

"I'll work my mojo, if you don't mind. Try to keep quite," she briefly informed them.

Though the room was situated in the office building of Wolfram & Hardt's and was thereby ghost-proof, it had to be consecrated in order to serve as their safe haven. As a rule she felt a huge dislike towards people who ran around with a bunch of smoking herbs in their hands, trying to cleanse a room, but it was quite effectively, so she begrudgingly performed the ritual.

"I'm done with burning stinky herbs," she finally announced.

"Are you sure you are ready, Snow-white?" Lorne asked hesitantly. He didn't seem to be too comfortable with being a part of this.

"Not yet. There's still something I have to do."

She stepped up to Spike, reaching inside her bag.

"What's that supposed to be, ducks?" he asked with a critical frown on his face.

"A protection spell. Now hold still."

Lisa closed her eyes for a moment to focus on the spell. It had to be cast in Egyptian. She hadn't spoken this language in years and even back then, when she had used it in everyday conversation, it had been difficult for her. It required her utmost concentration.

"_Osris, my master, head my call! See me and my loved one stand before thee. Keep him safe, so he shall return from the perilous path and guide his hand, when he strikes down your enemy!_" her voice sounded changed, when she pronounced the foreign words – sexless, ageless. A calm smile spread on her face, as she could feel her master's presence.

Lisa reached into the bag and when she pulled out her hand again her fingers were covered with some kind of greyish dust. She completed the spell, intoning the final blessing. "_Ashes we are, ashes we'll become. In thy name we'll fight_," Lisa first pressed her thumb to Spike's forehead, then to her own. He looked at her sceptically, but let it happen.

"Now, that we've got our safety-belts on, we're all set and ready to go," Lisa finally announced with fake-cheerfulness - in reality all she wanted to do was run and hide.

"Ever heard of a safety-belt that kept you from turning into a bloody splash on the wall, when hitting it at full speed? I certainly haven't.."

"Yuck, thanks for the imaginary," she wrinkled her nose at him.

"Well, I still don't think this is a good idea," Spike objected gruffly.

"We've been over this a million times. There is no other way," she answered patiently. Her hand stroke gently over his cheek in a gesture of reassurance.

"I know," he said regretfully, pulling her closer to embrace her one last time before the ritual would commence. His nostrils flared as he took in her delicious smell, a mixture of soap and incense. "Just promise you won't get yourself killed," he whispered softly into her ear.

It pained her to utter those words, knowing they could eventually turn out a lie, "I promise," Lisa said, hoping he wouldn't notice the slight tremble in her voice.

The intimate moment between them ended abruptly as embarrassed coughing could be heard behind them. Both turned their heads in unison.

"As much as I hate to break this up, Romeo and Juliet, but we have to get on with the ritual-thingy," Lorne announced regretfully. Somehow they made a nice couple, unlikely, but nice.

"Right," Spike acknowledged, but still didn't budge an inch. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Lisa's lips. She closed her eyes trying to savour this fleeting moment to its fullest. When it suddenly was over, regret was clearly written on both of their faces.

Spike finally managed to pull himself away and walk over to the altar to his left, on which he then stretched out awkwardly. "Not too comfy. Just as expected," he complained mockingly, trying to make the glum situation a little bit parable for her.

"I'm sorry, those ancient ceremonial altars don't come with a cushioning. You're pretty spoiled for someone who calls himself the Big Bad," Lisa shot back, from her place on the other altar and then fell silent again. This somehow had the feeling of stretching out on an operation table. Briefly a memory flashed in her mind of her as a little child, crying softly as the nurse cautiously pressed an respiratory mask to her face. Ironically she'd prefer an appendix operation -no, better make that any kind of operation- to having to go through this ritual.

Lisa had no more time to hang after her thoughts, as Lorne took his place between the two alters. He placed one hand on Lisa's head, the other's on Spike. His fingers felt cool against her skin, letting her assume that the green demon was just about as nervous as she was.

"Okay, off we go, kiddies," Lorne announced grimly and closed his eyes in concentration.

Lisa could feel it starting to work. Her heart rate briefly increased in agitation, before it slowed down considerably and her eyes closed as she gradually drifted into a trance like state.

The room fell silent, as its three occupants were engrossed in the ritual. This was the moment he had waited for. The door opened slowly, willingly granting him entrance. Angel walked up to the altar, on which Lisa rested. The expression on her face was peaceful and made him doubt if he was cable of doing what was required of him. His moment hadn't come yet and hopefully it never would. Until then he would be left to contemplate whether he was ready to accept his role in this. His hand closed around the hilt of the dagger, hidden underneath his duster as if to reassure himself it was still there.


	12. Graveyard

**Author's note: Characters from "The Matrix" are mentioned, which, of courseI do not own. **

**If you're reading this story, I'd be glad if you dropped me a few lines as to what you like about this or whether you recommend any changes - always up for some feedback :-)  
**

_Every bone in her body hurt. They had quite literally been dumped on the astral plane. Luckily their fall had been cushioned by a half-way soft landing on a green lawn. With a grown she slowly got to her feet, commanding her protesting limps to work. She squinted her eyes in concentration, as she looked around curiously. Long rows of tombstones were lying before them silently, framed by deserted pathways, which were shaded by old and crooked trees. Occasionally a few richly ornamented crypts were strewn in to break the monotony of the arrangement. They seemed to be in no imminent danger, as far as she could tell._

_"Of course, of all places it had to be a graveyard. Not very inventive, this one," Spike frowned, as he brushed of the grass from his trousers that stemmed from their rather ungentle landing on the lawn._

_"I guess he chose this setting, out of twisted sense of nostalgia. That's were we first crossed paths," Lisa explained calmly, looking around alertly. "Besides, technically this isn't a graveyard. We're still on the astral plane. It's a place were only the mind rules. Nothing is set in stone, everything can be altered: laws of nature, the passing of time…you name it. The problem is that we can only alter as much as we can imagine, because of the limited capabilities of the human mind. So things won't go completely wag or at least only to a certain degree. "_

_"So, your telling me this like the bit with Neo and Trinity standing in the White Room? Basically everything I will to appear actually does?" he asked incredulously._

_"Yep, want a demonstration?" she asked, looking at him with her head tilted to the left. "I hate those ugly linen dresses anyways. They're looking like granny's nightgowns," Lisa added, trying to mask her rising anxiety with the wittiness. She snapped her fingers and was suddenly dressed in a pair of dark blue jeans and a simple black shirt. "Much more comfortable," Lisa remarked contently._

_"Can we work this to our advantage?"_

_"If you wanted to make a fashion show with just one model. Sure."_

_"You know what I meant," he rolled her eyes at her._

_"Sorry, couldn't resist," Lisa admitted guiltily. Their banter was something familiar to hold on to. It helped her fight done the ever-present feeling of discomfort, she had felt since their arrival. Lisa reprovingly shook her head at herself and continued their conversation, where she had left off, picking up Spike's question from before, "Can we work this to our advantage?…Only somewhat. It works both ways. Baku could also make use of this, but he'll be otherwise occupied, rest assured," her eyes sparkled dangerously, "In the meantime you will be very welcome to resort to violence."_

_"Ready and willing to," an equally evil grin spread on Spike's face. He couldn't even start counting the ways in which he wanted to maim, kill and torture this necromancer bloke._

_He finally tore his mind away from gory revenge schemes and focused on the image of a scimitar instead. He wanted it to be simple, but effective and deadly sharp. To his wonder only seconds later the desired weapon materialized in his hand. It was exactly like he had wanted it to be. Spike smiled like a boy who had just gotten a new toy as he experimentally tried a few strikes. The metal blade cut the air with a high-pitched hiss._

_"Who'd have thought…It actually worked," he nodded contently._

_"I never doubted it would," she shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly as if swords appearing out of thin air were most normal thing in the world._

_"So what do we do now?"_

_"My guess - he is playing hide and seek with us. I'd say we should start looking for him, but with the necessary carefulness. He has most definitely set up a trap for us," Lisa said grimly._

_"We'll stay together, understood?" it was more an order than a question._

_Lisa nodded hesitantly, then they silently snug off to search the graveyard. It was eerily calm - no singing birds, no rustle of foliage. No sound except for that of the blades of grass brushing against their legs as they walk through them, which was probably only there, because they knew it had to be._

_They finally reached a crossway of paths. From a distance it was already visible that something was lying on the gravel surface of the pathway. Something incarnate and small. As they stepped closer, they got a much better look at it. It was a severed human hand that vaguely pointed eastward._

_"Is that a necromancer's idea of a scavenger hunt?" Spike asked, tentatively tapping against the hand with his boot._

_Lisa looked down at it wordlessly and then turned her head into the indicated direction. About a hundred meters from where they stood, the path opened out into a round square in front of a temple like building – a mausoleum._

_"Well, that went fast. He'll most certainly be there, waiting for us."_

_"Guess so," Spike answered._

_They stood there for a moment in silence. Neither of them was very keen on taking the next step that would eventually end in tragedy._

_"He's only expecting me," Lisa said after a while, "It would be best if you stayed undercover until he's distracted." She better kept it straight to business or else she wouldn't be able to do what she had to._

_"Sounds like a plan," Spike briefly kissed her on the cheek, "Be careful," he said, before he disappeared in the coppice left of the path._

_Alright, this is it! She took a deep breath and then slowly started walking down the path on wobbly legs. The gravel crunched under her boots with each step she took. It seemed like an eternity until she finally came to a halt in front of the mausoleum. Her heart was racing inside her chest uncontrollably, but she simply ignored it like her sweaty palms and her trembling hands._

_"Baku! I know you're there… Get the hell out, so we can finally get this over with," she called out, voice surprisingly strong and clear. Her angry words resounded loudly into the open space._

_At first there was no response. Then she registered a movement from the corner of her eyes. Baku theatrically stepped out of the entrance of the mausoleum. His appearance had changed considerably. Before he had resembled a phantom, but now he looked remotely human again. His skin was unnatural pale, almost bluish and covered with age spots. His long white hair was thinning out in some places, hanging down in greasy tendrils over his shoulders. Necromancy if performed over a longer period of time did have some not so pleasant side effects, especially when you dove deep into the dark arts, taking lives and prolonging your own unnaturally._

_"At first, I wanted to keep up our little game of hide and seek I little bit longer, but you must excuse me... I grew impatient," he hissed._

_"I bet you did," she said sarcastically, crossing her arms over her chest._

_"You've been staying in hiding for quite some time. I must have really scared you," he folded his long bony hands, baring a set of yellow teeth as he smiled at her devilishly._

_"Don't flatter yourself. I just like to be prepared…"_

_"Which you are now?" Baku let out a raspy laugh._

_"Yes," Lisa answered simply, "And I much preferred if you could press fast forward right to the part were we fight."_

_"If that is your wish…"_

_A stream of dark energy unexpectedly shot out of his palm and quickly came towards her. It moved over the ground like a snake, twisting and turning. Wherever it passed it left a trail of destructions: grass withered and died and even little pebbles turned to dust. It probably wasn't a good idea, getting into contact with this thing. Lisa's lips started moving soundlessly as she muttered a protection spell. The energy beam was now only a few inches from her, but was suddenly stopped by an invisible barrier. It let out an electric hiss before it disintegrated into thin air._

_"You've certainly improved, my dear. That makes it even more entertaining," Baku chuckled delightedly._

_"Let's see how you'll like this..," Lisa bent down and grabbed a handful of dust. She whispered a brief incantation, then blew on it. It left her palm quickly expanding to the size of a cloud, which engulfed her adversary completely. Lisa observed contently as the desired effect set in and Baku was shaken by a fit of coughs, oblivious to what happened around him._

_"Spike! Now!" she screamed, hoping that he was close by and heard her call._

_Spike let out an animalistic roar and left his hiding with a gigantic leap, making use of his vampiric powers. His duster pillowed dramatically behind him as he landed right in front of Baku, his scimitar poised to strike. Unfortunately he never got as far as to execute the blow, because the necromancer quickly recovered and knocked the sword right out of his hands. For a moment Spike looked confused, but then he smugly shrugged his shoulders, "It's fist and fangs then."_

_He threw a few bunches at Baku, but mostly uselessly. His opponent didn't even feel the urge to evade Spike's attacks. After a while he stifled a yawn and grabbed the blond vampire by the collar, unceremoniously throwing him into the dust next to Lisa's feet._

_"Are you alright?" Lisa whispered to him concernedly, not leaving Baku out of the eye in the meantime_

_"Peachy," Spike coughed hoarsely._

_"Ts ts ts, your minion is certainly enthusiastic, when it comes to fighting, but he most definitely is no match for me," Baku called out derisively, " I thought you were smarter than bringing a vampire into this fight. They can be so easily manipulated…"_

_He held out his arm in a authoritative gesture and momentarily looked confused, when Spike didn't obey his commands like a puppet on a string._

_"Sorry, this one comes with a costume protection spell," Lisa informed him gloatingly._

_"Clever, I have to give you that. He must be your pet vampire then…"_

_"Just, so we get this clear, Wormtongue… I'm not anyone's pet and definitely not a flunky," Spike had gotten to his feet again. He had slipped on his gameface and was ready to attack anew._

_"Slow down, Don Quixote," Lisa lay a hand on his shoulder to hold him back, "No more windmill fighting for you today."_

_Until now she had refrained from delving too deep into the dark arts. Quite frankly it scared her beyond all means. Lisa had once been there, roughly 10 years ago, when she had carelessly experimented with necromancy as a teenager, now being more older and mature, she was concerned if she could control the powers she would conjure. It wasn't as if she actually had a choice anymore. Lisa had to do it or else all would be lost._

_"Step aside," she muttered at Spike, her face was a mask of grim determination._

_"Why?"_

_"Just do it!" Lisa yelled, suddenly uncharacteristic emotionally. He let out a protesting growl, but he eventually obeyed._

_""_Advoco potestates obscure_..," when Lisa murmured the first words of the incantation, she felt the power rise inside of her, but this time it was more feral, more uncontrollable than usually. It was an exciting feeling, remotely arousing, but she couldn't bask in it or she would not be able to focus. She closed her eyes in concentration and when she opened them again they had turned completely black. All she knew was that she wanted to kill Baku more than she had wanted anything else in her life. So, she passed the last barrier. "_Occidete_!" Lisa screamed like a fury and a thunder like energy bolt shot out of her palm and hit Baku, who stumbled and then fell like a tree cut down by an axe._

_All of a sudden this feeling of absolute power was gone and she collapse on the floor. She was breathing heavily like she had just run 5 miles at full speed. Spike kneeled down besides her, "Are you, okay?"_

_"Yes…I think so," Lisa managed to get out. "Go check, if I really got him."_

_"His sizzling like Thanksgiving Turkey dinner. I think I can even say from a distance that you got him pretty well," he smiled proudly, but the smug expression on his face quickly died away a few seconds later._

_"I wouldn't be so sure about that, boy," announced a terrible voice. It couldn't be and yet they could see it with their own eyes. Baku slowly got to his feet. Pieces of his burned robes - now completely black and still smoking – fell to the ground. His hair was mostly gone and his skin was reddened and forming blisters. He was a terrible sight to behold._

_"Was that all you got, little girl?" he asked, his voice mockingly paternal._

_Lisa averted her gaze with tears of desperation in her eyes. She couldn't withhold them much longer, as she realized what this meant. She had done all she could and failed miserable. Her chances of actually coming out of this alive had evaporated, as had her hopes on a future. A future she had desired with all her might…now, that for the first time in years, she was finally looking forward to it, because of the prospect of spending it with someone she loved. She would miss Spike. Their talks, the banter, his kisses, the way her body tingled with contentment, when he just held her in his arm. Now Lisa had to get used to the thought that there would be no happy end. None at all! She knew what she had to do. This was the moment she had feared the most, but always new would eventually come. There was no time for hesitation._

_She grabbed Spike's hand and looked at him regretfully, "I'm sorry. I hope you'll understand, why I had to do this."_

_"What? Understand what?"_

_"I love you," she whispered regretfully and then muttered the spell to send him back to Wolfram&Hardt._


	13. Fade away

Spike started stirring on the altar. Angel's grip on the dagger's hilt tightened. This was the sign they had agreed on. He knew what he had to do. He would have to kill Lisa.

A few days earlier:

Still she didn't wear any shoes. It was strange walking through the nightly office building like that – only dressed in her bathrobe. During daytime those corridors were crowed with employees busily scurrying here and there, now they were completely empty. The scenery had something slightly surreal to it.

Her barefooted feet finally came to a halt. She was finally there. Lisa raised her hand to knock at the wooden door in front of her. No answer. She wouldn't be discouraged this easily, so she continued knocking. The door was suddenly ripped open. Angel looked at her questioningly, the expression on his face told her that he was not at all pleased to receive any visitors at this nightly hour. He had probably been busy with brooding in his room all by himself.

"I have something very important to discuss with you," she announced matter-of-factly.

"Can't this wait until tomorrow?" he asked ill-humoredly.

"No."

He sighed and motioned her to come in. His apartment lacked any private possessions whatsoever, unlike his office, which was stuffed with antiques and weapon's of all sorts. She couldn't help, but feel a little bit sorry for him. Working seemed to take up a huge portion of his life.

"So? What brings me the honour of your nightly - I would like to say visit, but let's face it, it's actually more some kind of intrusion," he looked at her expectantly.

"There's something you have to do for me..., " she hesitated for a momentarily, before she continued, "If I fail, if Baku is able to defeat me... you must kill me."

"Why?" he seemed kind of flabbergast by her announcement.

"You're seriously asking me why! Because if you don't, all hell will break loose. Not literally, but it's going to be bad – very bad. Don't get me wrong. I'm not suicidal. This plan is only meant for the worse case scenario…if all else fails. If he's going to kill him….you'll have to do it."

"Him…Spike?" Angel asked looking at her incomprehensively.

"Yes."

"You're willing to give your life for him?" incredulousness was clearly audible in his voice. "Just so that I understand…Why?"

"Why?" she repeated his question with a pensive frown on her face. "The answer to that is quite simple and at the same time very complicated…….because I love him…. Because he was just given a second chance, which confirms me in my belief that his being here has a purpose. "

"You women are always possessed by your romantic notion of how a man magically starts changing, once you've shared bed with him," he shook his head disdainfully.

His comment didn't manage to enrage her. "No, I don't intend to change him at all."

"Oh, please. He was always a pain in the ass. Right from the start," he snarled.

"I understand you two go way back. Too much rivalry, too much testosterone. A friendship gone awry. Too bad for you. But isn't the job you're doing about saving lives, or did I get something wrong?  
He may not be an innocent - neither am I nor you, but it's a life you'd be saving anyways. Keep that in mind. And even if you think about it pragmatically you may have to admit that Spike could turn out to be a helpful hand in the next best apocalypse," she explained calmly.

"As much as I hate to admit it, but you do actually have a point."

"So are you going to do it?" Lisa asked, looking at him imploringly

"I don't know…," Angel turned around to walk towards the window, where he stopped to look down on the skyline of L.A pensively.

"I can't turn to anybody else for this. And there's also a huge possibility you won't have to do it, but just in case…it would be nice to know that my eventual failure won't mark the beginning of Baku's reign of terror, okay?"

He hesitated, "Okay, but how will I know when to do it?"

"I'll have you know," she simply answered and turned around to walk out of the door.

Present day, astral plain:

_"Oh, well, now that your lover is gone, it's just the two of us.. Finally," Baku remarked, watching her interestedly like one would watch an insect that was about to be squished. Oh, how much had he been looking forward to this day!_

_Lisa struggled to get to her feet. She finally managed to, swaying noticeably, but at least she was still able to keep herself upright._

_"I didn't think you would have the guts to make use those powers," the necromancer circled her predatorily, "Won't that bring you into trouble? I guess Osiris will not be too pleased by that."_

_"Doesn't matter any more," Lisa wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand._

_"Right," his voice sounded conversationally, but stood in contrast to his violent actions. Lisa suddenly found herself pressed against a stonewall, his hand strangling her throat mercilessly as her feet dangled several inches over the floor. Despite the seriousness of the situation she had to grin._

_Baku looked at her as if she had gone crazy. She could well be, but who even cared at this point. It would happen any second now. A raspy laugh escaped her lips. Well, what better way to go than with a laugh on her lips? It was rather ironic since she had denied herself the luxury of emotions for so long._

Back in the real world Angel raised the dagger over Lisa's seemingly unconscious form. He hesitated briefly and that second of hesitation hindered him from executing his plan.

Spike awoke with a start from his magically induced trance. His first reaction was to check if everything was alright with Lisa. When he saw Angel towering over her with a dagger in his hand, he threw himself at the other vampire without wasting a thought on the reason behind his sire's actions. The dagger slid over the floor as Spike started raining down bunches on Angel, releasing some of the bottled up aggression, that had been stored up over the centuries.

"You," bunch, "are," bunch, "not going to take her from me," Spike screamed at him.

Angel managed to get a hold of Spike's fist. Just as it was about to slam down on him again, he stopped it in mid flight. "She wanted it like this," he defended himself.

_Nothing happened, nothing at all. Not that she was actually disappointed of not having to die, but considering the fact that Baku would soon take possession of her soul and would thereby obtain sheer unlimited powers, it was a little bit disquieting. Endless second passed, in which she came to realize that she would probably have to help herself, since nobody else would._

_She focused her mind on the picture of a hunting knife, which conveniently appeared in her hand a few moments later. Lisa rammed it into Baku's arm with all her might. He screamed hoarsely and let go off her. With her last strength Lisa managed to escape. At first she was a completely disorientate. The adrenalin was rushing through her veins and kept her from thinking coherently. Luckily her instinct kicked in and the young woman ran off to hide somewhere between the many tombstones and crypts._

_Lisa could still hear Baku howling in pain behind her, but luckily he didn't follow her. She zigzagged between the gravestones to cover her tracks and finally hid behind a large crypt. Lisa lay on the law breathing heavily, her body screaming at her to finally slow down._

_Lisa tried to assess the situation. She was utterly and completely screwed. No help, but free choice of weapons, which were only marginally useful against a necromancer (hexes were faster than bullets; plus in order to stab him with something sharp she had to get close, which was probably not such a good idea). Not to forget the utmost discouraging certainty of death! Simply great! She had to think of something. It wouldn't take long and he would find her. She wouldn't even wish her worst enemy to be in her place…'In my place', the words resounded in her head, as if they should tell her something. Then suddenly a thought occurred to her. Her face brightened with realization. It was so simple? Why hadn't she had this idea before?_

_Baku was furious. With an abrupt jerk, he pulled the knife out of his arm and threw it away disdainfully. Where had she run off to? His nostrils flared angrily. Didn't she know that she was only postponing the inevitable? It was really annoying, when people had the tendency of clinging to their lives with such persistence. He was growing impatient._

_"Come out! Let's not waste our precious time with playing childish games, especially since you've got so little left of it. I'll promise I'll make it quick," his reddened eyes scanned the graveyard searchingly._

_"Do I really have to come and get you, young lady?"  
_

_"No," Lisa stepped out from her hiding place, holding a sword in her hand. She looked a little worse for the wear. Angry red marks clearly indicated the area where his hand had brutally strangled her throat. Her clothes were dusty and sweat was glistening on her forehead. She slowly walked up to him._

_"So, you want to die honourably in battle? How noble, " Baku remarked sarcastically. "And stupid…"_

_He stormed at her again. It all went very quickly, Lisa lacking any fighting skills whatsoever. The sword landed clatteringly on the floor. She followed only seconds later. With panic in her eyes Lisa slowly crawled away from her nemesis, but he stopped her unceremoniously by bending down and unceremoniously grabbing her by the throat again. His fingers slowly tightened around her neck. A wicked grin spread on his monstrous face. The smell of burned skin invaded Lisa's nostrils. Her eyes bulged. A bombardment of different sensations flooded her consciousness. The vicious smile on Baku's thin lips that as he bared his yellow teeth at her, red dots dancing in front of her eyes, the sound of her own heart beat in her ears… She struggled desperately, kicking with her legs, but all in vain. Her limps sank to the floor lifelessly after one final spasm._

_He smiled contently. This was the fulfilment of a dream, he had fostered for an eternity, to be precisely ever since he met her. Her lifeless body at his feet. The hour of his triumph! His ascension seemed to pale in comparison to this sensation of complete and utter victory. The work was done and all he had to do now was just stand there and wait until her soul would rise from Lisa's corpse that lay to his feet._

_Instead something else happened. A strange prickling sensation spread through the palm and extended all the way to his fingertips. Outrage and surprise battled inside of him as he looked down on his hand, that was slowly starting to disintegrate. Like a disease nothingness spread and crept up his arm, which, too, began to disappear._

_ Baku let out an angry scream. Injustice! Fate had betrayed him. Wasn't he supposed to become a God now? Even though he had not committed a single mistake, he was now slowly drawn into hell. All he could do was watch helplessly as he was slowly fading into oblivion._


	14. Feelin' blue

Lorne suddenly opened his eyes and looked down an Lisa in tense expectation. The fighting noise in the background, stemming from Spike and Angel who where currently pummelling each other, didn't managed to attract his attention. He was worried. The telepathic connection between Lisa and him had been severed. That could mean only two things. Either she had been able to accomplished what she had been planning to do or…he hesitated before he allowed himself to continue further down this train of thought…or she had died. Time seemed to stretch to an endless eternity while he waited, his gaze fixed intently on her face, then her eyelids began to flutter. She suddenly sat upright, her chest rising and falling elaborately, as she was greedily sucking the air into her lungs. Her eyes looked around unfocusedly.

"She's back!" Lorne called out in relieve.

The two vampires immediately broke apart, becoming rapidly aware of what was happening. They both looked rather tattered - Angel fostered a nasty cut above his eyebrow, that was oozing blood and Spike's lower lip was split.

"What happened? Are you, alright?" Spike asked worriedly, hurrying to her side.

Momentarily it seemed as if she didn't understand a word he was saying. "I think so," it sounded as if she, herself was amazed she was still alive.

A relieved smile flitted over Spike's face, but then quickly disappeared, as he realized how little she had let him know about her actual plan. Why had she been acting like that? Didn't she even bother to stop and think - just for one bloody second - how he would be feeling about all this? Clearly her love for him couldn't be that strong, if she so readily sacrificed herself. He couldn't help, but feel betrayed. What made matters even worse was the fact, that Angel, that big poof of a sire, had seemed to her more trustworthy than him. Anger welled up inside of him incontrollably.

"Glad you didn't die," he said coldly, before he turned around abruptly and left, slamming the door behind him.

"Jerk," Angel muttered hostilely.

Lisa sad there motionlessly, staring into the empty space. She didn't understand what had just happened. All she knew was that he was gone just when she needed him the most. This was just too much for her at once.

It didn't take any telepathic sensitivity to notice that Lisa was utterly distress. Lorne couldn't help, but feel sorry for her, "It's all going to be alright, Snow White " he told her reassuringly, taking her pale hand into his in a gesture of comfort. Lisa let it happen without any protest. She was so tired.

"What happened?" Angel asked curiously in an unusually soft tone of voice. Seemingly they both men had wordlessly agreed on distracting her from the current situation.

"I…," she took a deep breath, to gather her thoughts. "I really did survive," Lisa said, seemingly oblivious to his question.

"Yes, you did, princess," Lorne patted her back soothingly.

A few seconds passed in silence, until Lisa felt able to articulate her thoughts. "When I noticed that no one would help me, I knew, I had to come up with something," she suddenly continued, slowly getting accustomed to the fact that she was back in the real world. "It turned out that more than anything else in the world, Baku wanted to see me dead," the young woman unconsciously rubbed her throat, it seemed as if she could still feel his bony fingers strangling her.

"How did you managed to trick him into believing you were dead?" Angel wanted to know.

"I created a doppelganger of myself. He killed her, while I stayed in hiding."

"And then?"

"He disintegrated."

"Why?"

"You see, after all he was just a ghost. A very powerful one, but still…He got stuck between the realms, because of unfinished business, which seemed to be my death. After he got what he wanted he disappeared." She made it sound rather simple, but her trembling hands betrayed her real emotions.

* * *

When Lisa first entered her apartment after one month of absence, it felt to her like some kind of an intrusion. After having roomed out of her spacious loft at Wolfram & Hardt's, she was back in the real world again. Everything seemed so foreign, so cold and unfriendly... 

She deposited her travelling bag on the floor and walked into the kitchen. Everything was still as she had left it – a silent, yet accusatory proof for her sudden departure. An half empty mug, filled with a dark fluid that could once have been coffee, stood on the kitchen table, dirty dishes were lurking inside the sink and she didn't even dare to open the fridge. She let out a depressed sigh. It wasn't like she actually was hungry.

On the way to her bedroom she kicked of her shoes and flung herself on her bed, where she lay motionlessly staring up at the ceiling. So this was how victory felt…Depressing, lonely, sad. Mostly sad. She missed him a lot. They hadn't spoken since her return from the astral plan. It hurt royally, but somehow she couldn't blame him. If she had been in his place, she would have probably reacted the same way. It seemed very clear that she was the one to blame. There was no arguing about this.

Again this dreadful thought appeared out of nowhere as it often had done in the last two days: Was he just sulking or did this mean it was over? Tears started forming in her eyes, but she didn't allow herself to cry. Not again. It was quickly becoming a habit and afterwards she always felt completely and utterly drained. So she concentrated on just lying there. It turned out be not as relaxing as she had intended. She quickly started torturing herself with accusations and thoughts that concerned themselves with how much of a loser she really was.

A knock on the door brought her back to the present. She drowsily raised her head and blinked. Had she really just heard that or was it just a figment of her imagination? It knocked again. In the blink of an eye she was out of bed and running towards the door. Excitement made her heart beat faster. Somehow she still hadn't buried the hope of him turning up on her doorsill unexpectedly. Lisa ribbed open the door, but when she saw who stood outside her face fell.

"It's you," she greeted Lorne dejectedly.

"Oh, thanks for the warm welcome," the green demon didn't wait for her to invite him in and simply stepped over the sill without further ado. Just as usual sickening cheerfulness radiated from him in great waves. Lisa was quite sure if she just had to be prone to his good mood just a little bit longer, she was going to puke.

"What brings me the honour of your visit? Did Angel send you?" she asked with as much friendliness as she could muster, which was actually very little at the moment, being heartbroken and miserable.

"No, I came, because I thought you needed someone to talk to, princess," he informed her gently.

"That's nice, but…"

"No, buts. You put on something nice and we head out for a couple of drinks," his red eyes fixed her sternly, then disapprovingly wandered downwards from her worn away black t-shirt to her faded jeans that were tattered around the trouser legs.

"Sounds inviting, but I got some things to do," Lisa lied unashamedly.

"Good try, honey-bun. Unfortunately, I happen to know the biggest brooder known to mankind, so I've already heard all those lame excuses. Get dressed!"

"What if I don't want to?"

"I could give you a few advices on how to fix this thing with Billy-Idol-gone-fang-boy, but if you don't want any help…."

"What do you know about my problems!" she raised one eyebrow at him cynically.

"I had a demon karaoke bar back in the good old days. Believe me I heard a lot about relationship problems, even of some you would never have dreamed of, deary."


	15. Let's give it a shot

Lisa was already a little bit tipsy as she stared at her glass of whiskey in childlike amazement. She liked the way the light broke in it and seemed to make the liquid glow from the inside. What she even liked better was how the whiskey ran down her throat, leaving a pleasantly warm feeling.

The bar Lorne, had dragged her into, consisted of a wild mixture of demons, vampires and humans. Perhaps this was precisely why Lisa didn't feel out of place.This was only of befitting. Here she was only a freak among freaks.

The lights were dimmed and unidentifiable music was coming out of the boxes above the counter. The bar had no distinctive features to it, so a certain amount of anonymity was guarantied.

"What would I do without my dear friend Johnny, " Lisa raised the glass to her lips again.

"You know your Mr. Peroxide might be doing the same right now..," Lorne told her, taking a sip of his martini.

"He's angry and I can understand why," it was the first time she had reacted to his tries of directing the conversation towards the sensitive subject of the blond vampire.

"Are you really giving up so easily?" the demon looked at her critically. "Or is it just that you're too scared."

"I…," she stuttered uncharacteristically and couldn't help but feel caught. "How? What!"

"You sang to me. I read your aura," Lorne summed up patiently as if it was something he was quite used to.

"Right," she took another swing from the glass. So there was no use lying. "Yes, I'm scared," Lisa admitted finally. "Scared that I might mess it up," she added in a hushed voice.

"That old devil called love…," Lorne smiled wistfully. There was a hint of melancholy in his eyes. Once again he had become the listener who skilfully enticed the other person to continue speaking.

"How am I supposed to make this work if I can't even figure out myself? Before I met him every seemed so clear. I knew who I was, what to do…But now. Well, now everything's different," she traced the rim of her glass with her finger pensively.

"I've started caring again," her voice was barely above a whisper. "Before I had nothing to lose, but now I've got a whole lot to lose. Being a psychic not actually risk free. What if I get killed? What if he dies in a fight?"

"Honey, it's quite simple. Just ask yourself one question. Do you seriously want to go back to the way it was?" Lorne looked at her seriously.

She hesitated for a second, contemplating what he had said. "No," Lisa hung her head. "I know I can't. I love him."

"Then why don't you stop worrying about what might be and start thinking about what could be?"

"Damn it! I'm not one of those people who suddenly sees the world through rose-coloured glasses once they've fallen in love, that's because!" her fist angrily slammed down on the counter in emphasis of her words. "Do really you think you can console me by means of some psycho-babble you've picked up from somewhere? Life sucks. This conversation sucks."

"Most people don't appreciate being told to their head what I know about them. They usually take subtle hints, but obviously you don't," Lisa had done something bordering to impossible. She had made him angry. Lorne was fed up and frustrated with being merely the patient listener, especially since she was being so stubborn. "So let me put this straight. You love him, but you keep standing in your way – you're sabotaging yourself. You like being unhappy, because that's something you're experienced with. You're afraid you might lose him just like you lost Charlie. It's time to wake up, princess! You didn't lose Charlie out of your own fault. He sacrificed himself so you could live. It was his gift to you.

Life is not simple. It's not solely exciting and beautiful. It is what it is. It doesn't come in a nice wrapping, but the one thing that makes this all suck a little less, is love. It makes people write songs – great romantic songs like the one you sang to me, when I read your aura. It comes and goes the way it wishes. It can be love between siblings, friends – even between two of the most thick-headed people in the world," he finished a little out of breath and looked at her expectantly.

Lisa's blank gaze was stubbornly fixed on the mirror behind the bar. Her face was expressionless and made him doubt whether she had really been listening to his angry tirade. But then, as she blinked, a single tear ran down her cheek. She quickly brushed it away with an embarrassed smile. "It like to believe this, but I'm not sure if I can."

"Give it a try," his voice once again had become soft. He gave her a comforting smile.

The young woman briefly hesitated before she continued, "I might"

They both finished there drinks in companionable silence.

* * *

Later that night in some run-down part of L.A. Lisa was contemplating disgustedly whether to enter the run-down dive that lay in front of her or not. It was her umpteenth try this night and she was slowly getting frustrated. The buzz she had felt after a few drinks and Lorne's pep talk, was slowly fading. She had already been to numerous other establishments of this kind before, but always without any success. This one was especially shabby-looking. Well, she could at least give it another try. Maybe she would find Spike here. 

She had learned that the wisest course of action was not to look the clientele straight in the eye - so they wouldn't be provoked by her presence –, head straight to the bartender to ask him her questions and then disappear as quickly as possible. And that was what she intended to do this time as well.

Lisa quickly snug in through the door, but unluckily her plan didn't go as smoothly as she had planned. Some six foot high mountain of muscle decided blocking her way. She froze in tracks like a rabbit in front of a snake, praying to the Gods to make her invisible. Obviously they didn't heed her call. Lisa gulped nervously.

"Hey, Lucius, look what we've got here," the colossus called out to his friends, sitting around a table in the corner, "something to pretty to play with!" The men laughed dirtily in response, which entice Lisa's vis-à-vis even further.

"Looking for a little company?" she could feel his lusty gaze wandering all over her body.

"No, I'm fine, thank you," Lisa said as calmly and politely as she could. She was well aware that the music, that had been playing in the background had stopped and all eyes in the room were fixed on her. The young woman slowly retreated into the direction of the counter.

"Not so fast," the unfriendly giant grabbed her by the arm, "First a little kiss," again laughter from the audience.

Lisa cringed inwardly at the mere thought it, "I'd rather lick the floor with my tongue, at least it would be more sanitary." She already was in trouble - what she said or did, didn't matter anymore.

"Someone should teach your manners. Nobody talks to me like that! Not even some two-bit bitch like you!" the muscle mountain roared dangerously. He raised his fists angrily. Each of them seemed as big as Lisa's head. She closed her eyes anxiously, her hands raised protectively over her head.

Lisa expected his fist to hit her any second, but nothing happened. She opened her eyes cautiously to see the giant lying to her feet, while Spike was towering above him, his hands still balled to fists. The other man was squirming in pain on the floor and holding his stomach. The blond vampire turned around with an impassive expression on his face and headed back to his seat at the counter. The music had started playing again and everything went back to normal as if nothing had happened. Lisa, on the other hand, needed a moment to stomach the recent events. She shook her head in disbelieve, but then hurried after Spike.

She eyed him shyly, as he sat there with his back turned to her, as he was meticulously trying not to acknowledge her presence. "Hi," Lisa finally said timidly. It wasn't really an intelligent thing to say, but at least she had started talking. He didn't deem her try to converse with him worthy of a response.

"I wanted to talk to you," she stated the obvious.

He briefly looked over his shoulder, "Bugger off! I've got nothing to say to you."

She let out a frustrated huff. This was going to be a long night. Lisa let herself slump on the bar stool next to him. Lisa raised a hand to wave at the barkeeper.

"What are you doing?" Spike asked incredulously, taking a swing out of the freshly opened bottle of whiskey that stood before him. I

"Ordering a drink," Lisa answered shortly. "I'd like the same he has," she informed the man behind the bar. He simply raised an eyebrow and then placed a bottle of bourbon in front of her.

"Slightly suicidal tonight, are we?" Spike observed her critically.

"No, I just thought that I'd need some liquor to get through this conversation."

He let out a humourless snort. "So, let me guess…you didn't just come to start a bar fight."

"Well, no…"

"Thought so, make it quick. I'm trying to get pissed," Spike told her matter-of-factly.

"I love you," Lisa said simply. The way she said it made undoubtedly clear she really meant it. Spike's expression noticeably softened a little bit at her words. It was good a good start, but she still had to try a little bit harder.

"Continue," he supplied, bringing the bottle to his lips again.

"When I went looking for you, I had planned it all out in my head, you know. All the smart things to say. As always my plans don't work out right," she let out a tried sigh. "See, I can understand why your angry…"

"Oh, you can?" his eyes flashed dangerously. "You didn't even bloody tell me there was a Plan B. You didn't even care to mention that you were still planning on playing the martyr…It just didn't come to your mind! Instead you run off to this stupid sodding ponce Angel, to let him in on your little scheme. What did you expect? That I'd hand you a bouquet of flowers after the little stunt you pulled?" his hands closed around the bottle so tightly, that his knuckles turned almost white.

"I did it, because I wanted to protect you….because it would have killed me, if he had been harmed you in any way. That's why! To me it seemed a damned good reason at the time."

"Still you could have told me," Spike answered gruffly.

"It was wrong not to tell you. I know that now, but I wasn't ready then."

"Ready for what!"

"To let you close," Lisa hesitated briefly, but then continued bravely, "I can do it now. I know I shouldn't have kept anything from you. It won't happen again. There will be no more secrets, I promise."

"Alright, then tell me something about yourself I don't already know. Something true," he looked at her challengingly. She couldn't help, but feel as if he was testing her.

"Well….where to start," What could be of any interest for him? As couldn't come up with anything that was particularly exciting, she just started ranting about the first thing that came to her head. "I….I enjoy watching cheesy TV-shows and I always cry like a baby whenever I listen to a really sad song," This was kind of embarrassing, but who cared anyways? If she wanted him back she had to swallow her pride.

"But what is more important," Lisa confessed finally, "I've missed you. I've missed you a lot. This is not a secret, not at all. I think I never felt so lonely in my entire life than in the last couple of days…"

"Why the sudden change of heart?" the past had taught Spike to be sceptical.

"Well," she sighed, "I've always been a control freak. Not a really surprising revelation. It's sort of part of the whole sending to the spirits back to where they belong deal. The point is I somehow forgot how it's is like let go, to let somebody else take care of you. And it's really hard for me…

A near death experience certainly puts things into perspective…I always dreaded the future, because it is an incalculable variable. Never cared much about it, to be honest. When Baku was after me, when he nearly killed me, I realized that I didn't want to let go of this life. I wanted a future, because for the first time I was actually looking forward to it…., because of you…"

Spike shrugged his shoulders wordlessly.

"Look, I don't know what else to say, " she ran her hand through her hair desperately, "I only know that I've never been in love like this. It's like in this damned romance novels: I can't eat, I cry myself to sleep, if I actually should happen to fall asleep... And even as we sit here and you probably just want me to leave, I feel better than in the last entire two days…I love you and that's completely, entirely and unmistakably the truth. That's all I can say and if that isn't enough…," Lisa hung her shoulders dejectedly.

"Do you know why I'm already having my second bottle of Whiskey tonight?" he asked her, his voice soft and barely audible above the background noise of the bar. Lisa looked at him in confusedly. What had his drinking habits to do with their current situation? She shook her head in dumb-found puzzlement.

"Because no matter how angry I was at you – the keyword being 'was' in this context- I still couldn't stop myself from loving you. So I figured as long as I kept myself busy with drinking I wouldn't be able to run off to go looking for you," he pushed the bottle away from him, since he no longer had any use for it.

"Sorry, I've spoiled your well-thought plan," she smiled at him, partly regaining her self-confidence.

"Wasn't really all that well-thought, to begin with," he made a dismissive gesture with his hand, "When I returned into existence, after that little human torch incident back in Sunnydale, I was determined not to fall in love again. Not ever again. Needless to say that that plan went awry like all the others. I'm glad it did…"

"I'm glad, too," Lisa smiled at him.

"It's different with you... I feel close to you," he paused looking at her with uncharacteristic shyness, " This is sort of a new experience for me, you know. Never happened before. Never been close to anybody. Well, at least not like this. I've told you things, I've never told anyone before. And strangely it felt right, because I somehow knew you wouldn't laugh at me or think less of me. For Christ's sake! I'm sounding like a sodding monologue from one of those silly romance novels," Spike rolled his eyes in annoyance with himself, but it dissipated as quickly as it came. "Oh, to hell with it! I don't even care!" exclaimed and then continued, "I can't get enough of you…I want to know you, really know you and the worst thing you can do to me is shut me out… I love you. I really do…. and that bloody scares me," the look he gave her was a mixture of vulnerability and confusion.

"Guess we are really meant for each other then," Lisa smiled at him tenderly, "I was scared, too. Scared I would mess this up with you, scared I could lose you…And the fact that spending two days without you, reduces me to a bundle of self-loathing, sobbing, Kleenex using heap, is only slightly comforting. I'm turning into a girly girl, because of you," her voice sounded ever so slightly accusatory.

He let out a soft laugh and Lisa couldn't help, but join him. The tension slowly eased away.

"Let's make this work," she finally said, looking at him seriously.

"Yes," he slowly leaned forward and brushed a loose strain of hair behind her ear. His fingers grazed her cheek ever so slightly and for a moment his hand hovered in the air, while they both looked at each other in fascination. Then they were suddenly kissing passionately.


End file.
